Locked in darkness
by HalliwellMB
Summary: Happy endigs are not available for everyone. History needs betrayals, sad stories, hate and blood...end up locked in darkness.../ Alternate sequel of "Sincerily, Freebie".
1. Prologue

**Hello! This os one of the alternate endigs of "Sincerily, Freebie" (.net/s/6454749/1/Sincerely_Freebe) that's also the original. I'm going to continue the story with this one ("Darkness is in here") at the moment, and, once it's complete, I'll write the another ending (Light is out there) that I have not written yet so any idea is bienvenue.**

**Well, that's it folks. I hope you like it (All warnings remain).**

**This is dedicated to Ibrahil Prang.**

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_Darkness is in here:_

_This is the way I decided to name the second section of my notebook, because, sometimes, we wonder "What if...?"...sometimes, we want to know what would had happened if we had taken another option...sometimes..._

_Sometimes, life has differents plans, and deppend of us to choose...unfortunately or not, we do it blinded...it's something about luck, good or bad; happy endigs are not available for everyone. History needs betrayals, sad stories, hate and blood...end up locked in darkness..._


	2. Blue eyes don't say goodbye

**Here is the first chapter of the alternate sequel 100% dark. I hope don't dissapoint you. I know it goes kinda fast but isn't the main topic so, well...hum...let's read.**

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**Chapter One: Blue eyes don't say goodbye.**

"Okay, I'm broke", I said, crossing a few additions and subtractions I had on a sheet of paper, thinking that now, with the fact that Cole didn't give me anything, I had to buy things myself and it was too expensive.

"Relax, you have Cole if you need anything", replied Helena.

"That, is to be lucky", added Gisselle, who was cutting and making a new dress, fighting against Rubi, who was trying to use the scissors on herself.

"Sure...", I sighed and stared with hatred, do they really believe I thought they had no idea of the new rules Cole made for me?

I jumped on the bed, infinitely tired...the quality of the life I was living there made me shattered, exhausted, listless and too weak physically...but also psychologically. And even more.

"Calm down, break will be over in a little", Rubi encouraged me, and I took off my glasses to set them aside.

"I hate these days...I feel more pathetic than the others", I complained, pissed for the stupid period, which was commissioned to separate me from Cole for about a week each time during those four months that we were "a couple"...

Each time the stupid penalty women had in our biological sentence, he disappeared from my life until I was ready to return to "work."

"You both are insatiable", Rubi smiled, speaking again and licking her lips "I wish some of my girls were as energical as you...you know, I do never make out with the same girl too often, they don't have my rhythm, but you complement each other perfectly".

I winced, the conversation sounded too morbid, but it was almost the only thing we talked since Cole first came here...and it was an incredible gossip for everyone that who they thought was gay for years, fucked the new girl whenever he could, how many times could and where he could; the worst thing for days like these, is was that I was used to satisfy my sexual needs just at feeling them, so, I abstained myself from any kind of thought out the little birthday cards to avoid thinking about sex, because I couldn't go forward than halfway and get anywhere...

The problem is that all that "free time" made me think of home...and I was in a bad mood, holding on as much as possible, focusing in that soon, I'd be able to share an orgasm with him.

Two days after, our sessions of "rape-each-other" were available again, so about four in the morning I got up, couldn't wait a single second and ran to his room. If I was lucky, this time I would get high also, in case he forget about not letting me do drugs.

"Cole," I whispered, trying not to wake his roommates, but I knew we would end up waking them up if he joined the business...and he always did after the recess period, "Cole...," I repeated, approaching his ear, and he covered my mouth brutality.

"I heard you," he said, and stood up "I don't have enough for two," he said, and I knew he was lying, "I'm sorry, there's just for me".

He sat on the floor to give free rein to his ritual. I watched him sitting cross legged on his bed. I smiled secretly, observing him in detail...he was beautiful. Muscular and shapely torso, tall, strong arms, dark brown soft hair, deep sad blue eyes, and haggard...looked tired and sick, yes, it was true, but he was beautiful.

He was perfect for me.

He stood up and leaned me over the bed, without violence. To a time, he was careful with me, no more wild sex, although he still remained cold and almost contemptuous, but I insisted that it had to do with the apathy of the addition and not me.

Was clearing gradually, and some highlights of July peered through the window of the room, allowing me to see more clearly the reflection of that was in front of us. He lifted my shirt and caressed my hips with his big warm hands, up to my belly. He kept his touch there and distributed some kisses, but he looked worried.

He was expecting some kick or movement, but that was not happening...

Yes.

I was pregnant.

He knew it, I knew it, but we pretended I wasn't. No one else had any idea. We had never spoken about it. Cole had discovered two months ago because that day in the bathroom, he was examining my body. He was looking for changes and found them: my breast was bigger, my body tired and sleepy, my belly bigger... It took me to understand, until I began to realize that he devoted much time to caress my belly every time I was close and penetrations were carefully now, that he devoted to examining me very often. He used to, when he thought I was sleeping and maybe when I really was, whisper sweet things to his baby that I'd never had expected from him in my life.

But I also knew that he was afraid. I could suffer a spontaneous abortion by drugs and that was the reason why we banned them for me, despite being fully aware that I had abused of heroin the month before pregnancy and the first two months of pregnancy before he knew it, making it nearly impossible for the child within me was formed properly, and it was very likely that at any moment our baby would leave. That was why he walked away every time I bleed...because he thought his child was gone. I knew this could happen at any time, and though my case was one in which pregnant and all I bleed every month, and was used to do it, it doesn't meant that feelings hit my chest every time I did: I loved my baby, but I wasn't prepared to give him birth or raise him.

Much less to watch him die.

Basically he and I knew it had no chance of birth: Not that we want our kid dead, but he knew that this pregnancy had no future...I felt that the tiny little life was very ill...it was something I can't put in with words, but it was a real feeling: I was its mother, I knew what was going on inside me and everything said my baby would never be ready to face the world and, if did, it would not resist more than a few hours suffering and dying, until doctors give me him dead in my useless arms.

Cole knew it, but he had not resigned, trying to make me stay away from any harmful substance, whether legal or illegal, but he was also clear that it was better for it to leave us now and not have to wait to be born to suffer, agonize and die... so he doesn't ever have to know what it was a symptom of abstinence...because our baby has no other destiny than receive a sentence this couple of irresponsible people who had conceived him, gave him. To die because my body couldn't give it anything to nourish it and make it strong to survive outside my womb...

Cole was slightly sober, because he never reached the euphoria before making sure that our kid was still there, but when we had sex, he was already euphoric and in his own world. We were afraid of falling in love...even though that for me was too late.

He lifte my pajamas, spread my legs and touched for a long time. Very long. Looking for something that was not there: he was trying to see a violet color in my vagina that was no longer there, telling him that there was no more life in me. I don't know much about these things, but understand his gestures. I understood all that his eyes told me, because he didn't explain anything with words but with his eyes.

And I understand. Crazy, yes, but maybe...but, among crazy people, we understand.

I looked at his face, but not in the eyes, and he asked me without uttering a single word, only lifting his chin, if that month the bleeding had taken our baby, or if he was still inside. I refused and took his hand from my crotch to my stomach to tell him its body still with us, and he closed his eyes.

I closed mine and shed a tear.

My baby was dead.

Had died during those days when Cole and I were separated.

"Heroin?", he asked.

Before I could say yes, he had the needle in my arm...and I realized that instead of giving me something light, cheat or just inject a few drops, the shot had been almost brutal: greater than ever I had received in my life. We wanted to evade, escape the world, because the pain was too great to bear. Because we both knew that we were murderers, not because of missed abortion was suffering my five months pregnant, because we really had tried to save it...but for having given life to a being so weak and dying, for allowing exist from the beginning, knowing it would never have a chance.

Now, Cole was giving me drugs to accelerate the process of loss, so the abortion would be faster, to finally end the pain of its departure and try to move on, but...How could we get it over?

We undressed fast, and realized he wasn't looking at me. I knew he wasn't. He just let me be on the top, and start riding.

He wasn't touching me.

The only contact we kept, was his sex with mine and our hips in motion, all for trying to get rid of that horrible knotted feeling from our stomachs tangling up our throats, but I didn't want to looked at him neither, it hurt me...It hurt too much to think that I could never see the proof of our love looking at the world with the blue eyes of Cole.

A few minutes later, I didn't feel anything. He at least had his eyes closed and was hurting me, only to feel my nails digging into his skin and making him bleed, pay for what he had done. I, for the otther hand, also paid mine letting him go so hard. I felt my tears want to come out in spurts, but they are not allowed: I had no right. Not after having been me, the main guilty for letting our child grow in me. Disobeying and doing drugs. For had disappointed my family and also myself.

He finished, protected with a condom to prevent anything crrtainly unclean pollute the territory of our little angel. I got up, put on my clothes again and run off from there. No words were needed, we had not talked about anything and had never made a single comment out loud ... but one way or another we both knew we thought the same thing, and we had perfectly clear that the other shared the same feelings about the baby: desolation.

I got to my room, shattered and eager to die soon and jumped on the bed, waiting for something to happen that day that distract me from all this, like people would let the director take control of the institution again. Cole and I did not even noticed any changes to be lost in our big dilemma, but to the others had been quite noticeable and protested the decision made by some guys who had taken the control of the place and expelled all the importat people out of the center, except internships and now didn't want to leave or give up...the police have been outside since some days ago, and inside was a total anarchy.

I felt sorry for wished something interesting to happen when I felt that the door opened abruptly and Giovani stood there, waking up all my friends who were sleeping...as anyone on a Saturday at six in the morning.

"Backyard now!", yelled kicking the door, carrying a gun in his hand and running to give the same warning to other rooms beyond.

The others were a little scared. They used to say that something like this had happened before, but never to this level of violence and madness. But I wasn't afraid, I just waited for the gun to end over my chest and me leave this world which I don't belong anymore. The girls got up and took the time to take their most precious belongings before leaving. Rubi had taken a knife, Gisselle her favorite dress, which was now sweing and her sewing kit, and Helena her blue box full of merchandise.

I simply stood up.

Outside, we were all locked and being used by the insane hostages who had gone completely crazy, and had now the police threatened with our lives.

I was dragging my feet on the stage of dormancy, that was worse than ever before in my life, stronger and more depressive that I had never experienced before: I had never did so much heroin like in the morning, and less mixed with other things, and was now paying the consequences. But if something surprised me was the deep and sharp pain I started feeling in my lower back to each side of my body. It burned like hell. It was like cramping around each muscle, denying me the possibility of walking.

I held on thewall, cold sweating and gritting my teeth while screaming, begging that someone had enough pity to kill me and end this pain. Warm tears were falling down my face and I couldn't do anything but shrink, tighten my eye lids and hugging myself, feeling something wet between my legs. There was no need to do more to open my eyes and look at my hand to see the dark, sticky blood that stained my naked thighs, barely covered by a Cole jersey i wore to sleep while the week away from him to feel him close. I closed my eyes again, gripped the throbbing pain that I was driving me crazy and losing all sense of reality, unable to hear anything than intermingled sounds and difficulty breathing. Each breath was more painful than the previous one, and I was slowly slipping from the wall, falling to the ground and feeling the rest of my legs were covered with small trickles of blood. I couldn't help but held my belly as if it had the power to prevent what was already happening.

I woke up without opening my eyes, feeling the light of the lamp where I was lit too strong. I felt both hands of Cole around mine protectively, stroking with his thumb. I tried flashing before open my eyes, and just I did it, I felt voices and sighs around me.

Cole didn't let go of my hand. He didn't stop stroking me. But neither looked at me.

"I thought you woulnd't wake up never again", Gisselle cried, clutching my head with both arms, kissing my forehead and staying well, not moving.

I don't understand what was happening. I could only feel the constant pain in my hips and I was wondering if...if it had happened or what else was happening.

"You gave us a scare," complained Rubi idly, staring at a woman in white coats that I couldn't recognize, but was checking out some things.

I blinked again and noticed that the light belonged to the nursery, and everything looked so garishly bright it reflects on the white walls. I glanced sideways and saw Cole sitting in a chair next to me, with both elbows close to my right arm, holding his chin on our hands union.

"I have bad news for you," told the woman, and I didn't know what the hell was she doing there and talking to me.

"How long have I been here?", I murmured, looking at Helena, ignoring the character of white coat with some irritability: I hated everyone in that place, except Rubi, Gisselle, Helena and Cole.

"Nearly two hours," said Helena, sitting in front of Cole, the other side of the bed and stroking my forehead, or the small space Gisselle left out of her embrace.

"And your baby has been dead for four days", added her, talking to my ear.

I closed my eyes tightly and felt the tears fall back on my face. This time it was not the pain of my body: were mixed emotional pain and fear, but overall, the blow of reality hitting me on the face, confirming that definitely I had lost the only thing worthwhile in my stupid world because I didn't even have the certainty that Cole was mine. I didn't know if he was still married or not, and independent of it, he had a daughter...or so I believed. I did not know anything about them. None of them.

I felt down thick drops of salt water on my hands, and discovered that Cole was crying with his eyes closed. Now it was real. He was sorry. He was suffering, as I was, or even more, because knowing him as I do, I knew he thought that if he had made me stay away from drugs since the beggining, our baby would have been healthy and, failing that, I would never slept with him nor had the slightest chance to get to conceive it.

"Why didn't you tell us you were pregnant?", asked with unbearable white coat, who had been one of the few people of the care team that had allowed to stay there...in case of emergencies.

"When can I go?", I asked, ignoring her again in a broken voice and stare.

I didn't want to stay there. I just wanted to go home to my room, my room, my bathroom, my school, my bed, my clothes, my sisters. But I knew that was not possible...because I knew that problems would not disappear if I returned to the manor, on the contrary, it would become worse. What would I do if Prue and gramms learned of the existence of Cole?, And worse, The baby that we were losing? And despite knowing that, I was dying to go home. Or die now, at this moment.

"You still have to expel the dead fetus".

I froze.

Suddenly the whole world, stopped spinning. In a single second all my universe ended falling down. At that moment, more than ever, I wanted to close my eyes and to open them again, with Piper awaking me from this nightmare, telling me to go to sleep with her so I had no more fear for the night. Heard that was like to feel a direct blow to the heart. Like having chocolate in both hands knowing you cannot taste it. Like spend every day in front of a shop of dolls and don't be able to buy your favorite one. She was saying that if I wanted to go, I had to end destroying the world and the existence of my baby. The only thing that was valuable in relation to me, the only good, pure, and beautiful thing I could ever have done in my life and would never do again.

I looked at Cole, and he shifted his gaze from me automatically.

The woman gave us some explanations of what she would do and what should happen. And yet, I didn't understand what she was saying, except that hip pain meant I was dilating and that in time, I would have to say goodbye to my little angel forever. Cole on the other hand, seemed to be listening with rapt attention. That stranger wanted to give me anesthesia, but I declined, I wanted to feel everything, the pain was mine and I didn't want anyone daring to pull it away from me. I don't wanted to escape again, for the first time in nearly four years I wanted to feel, no matter if it was something good or bad, but I wanted to feel something.

During the wait, Cole stroked my back, and sometimes put me face down on my knees to massage a bit from my thighs to my shoulders trying to help me stop feeling so much pain. And this time, I allowed him, but only because he was who was doing it: it was also his pain, and we shared it that way. I was nobody to say him no.

Gisselle stroked my forehead and Ru bi reminded me breathing between contractions. Helena looked at me with deep sense of sadness, to Cole and me, and held my hand when needed. I knew that I looked very pathetic, sweating, crying and moaning often. Spreading my legs when I felt the pain would kill me, or close them failing. I also knew that Cole and I together, looked more miserable.

The woman had recommended me to get up and walk a little, so everything would go faster.

But again, I refused.

I didn't want to say goodbye to it. I wanted to spend much time in its company. Not want to feel empty without its little body growing with me and not moving a single inch, because I've never been able to feel a movement or a lousy kick. Because I never had the hope that one day I could finally be its mother.

Almost eight hours had happened, and I can do no more than mourn, cry, ask for help. Pray for mercy, asking God to take me along with my son.

Please let me go with him.

Cole looked at me with his broken heart, and made his best efforts to prevent me further suffering. I changed position quite often, he made sure to give me warmth with his body and tried to distract me to make the time pass faster. I held his hand when I felt the uncontrollable urge to push, and I resisted at all costs to do so. They told me to stop denying, to open my legs and began to push, but I didn't want, and nobody could force me to do so. Except my own body, that hated me and made me feel again the urge to push.

"Phoebe, you have to at some point," said Helena with a sad voice, trying to stroke my arm but I didn't le her: I did not want anyone's pity.

Cole nodded, making Gisselle, Rubi and Helen leave the room back to where all the others where locked for the insane Giovani and his cronies, where thank God, Cole was not. I don't want to know what was happening to those sick of the head when police caught them.

Cole broke his hand from mine and lifted my back a little to sit on top of the table. I felt like pushing again, but I bit my tongue to not. He leaned me on his chest gently, stroking my belly and then move his arms under my armpits, taking my hand and allowing grasp them around his.

I heard him sigh, to stifle a sob and accommodate my head on his shoulder to give me good support, and despite its act so relaxed, I knew he was destroyed. Again, the desire to push made me squirm, feeling the head of my baby move, but I didn't cooperate. The woman tried to separate a little over my legs and hold my feet, so I made a gesture of giving her a kick if she tried again to approach me or my family: I would not allow anyone to take my baby, and nobody would dared to touch it before I could apologize.

"Breathe...", Cole whispered in my ear, to feel a spasm caused by a contraction, and I did "squeeze my hand, and push..."

I dropped a thousand tears, or two thousand maybe. I clentched my hands, scared to death by what I was going to do and just felt my instincts as a dog giving birth alone in a dark alley. This was the first time in my life when I was pushing and pain never felt more horrible than that. Everything is translated to feelings of emptiness and loneliness deeper in my story: my child was leaving...it was leaving, as everyone.

"I see the head," the woman told us, somewhat calmer to see that after almost four times to begin to give birth, I was finally taking one.

I hid my face in Cole's chest, turned a little and not hold back crying when I felt another strong contraction. It was as if something was trying to blown off my legs, but it hurt a milliones time more, feeling how my heart was leaving me.

"Push," he whispered, rubbing his hands with his fingers extremely delicate so it seemed a dream, totally surreal.

I nodded, still hidden under his neckdy decreased a little, and heard the woman tell us the gossip that the kid was almost completely out. And I wanted to kill her. Because she was the walking symbol of the removal and death of my soul.

"No...", I asked Cole when he squeezed my hand, asking with that gesture to push again now that another contraction reached, "Plea..."

"Do it," he ordered, and it wasn't the harshness of the word that I cared, but the gentleness with which he had pronounced.

The steps of women approached us. I wanted to protest.

"No," Cole asked, and I obbeyed.

My lips pursed and my face made a grimace worthy of Paige when she was five years old and tried to learn to ride a bike without much success. Prue, Piper and I, we were at speed through the streets leaving her behind unintentionally, of course. Then one day, the little one pedal faster than us screaming happy that finally, she had succeeded. Hopefully, this adventure had a happy ending, but no...I had no hint of hope.

I tried to tangle my hands in Cole's, but they couldn't be more united. I pushed for third time in the longest one than I had ever given. I bitted Cole's shirt so hard that I squeaked my teeth. He clinched my hands tighter in proportion of my own grief for what was happening, and above all to hear me: I screamed. I shouted. I yelled. So sharp, raspy and hold that I was sure I couldn't make another sound after that, being scraped my throat and my eyes flooded with tears. It was not about the birth pain, but for the pain it caused me to say goodbye. The pain of losing what love the most in life, because of my own fault.

"It's a boy", said the woman, who took advantage of my exhaustion to come, holding it from my legs and we didn't surprised, was something we already knew, just a hunch.

I felt, suddenly, a horrible feeling and the sound of scissors cutting the cord that had stayed us together for about twenty weeks, almost like life cutting my heart in two. I had not reached to assimilate that I had a misscarriage, less that I just had given birth to my son, and had been already separated from him before I could reason it out. I saw the woman wrapping him in a towel before I could see him or even sideways, making my little one leave in silence.

Because he was not crying. He left without saying goodbye. Without looking at me with those blue eyes of his father, like him.

Pushed twice and five times they were in total. Five times were needed to expel my baby and the nest my body had created for him...and I had no tears to express what I felt to learn that both, his father and I, were responsible for his fate and worst, fatal outcome. Cole had my two hands pressed hard, and I could hear his heart beating weakly, almost not doing it. Tears were rolling down his cheeks falling down my face constantly. He was choking on his own tears and was crying loudly; it was the second time I saw him crying in my life, and the first time I saw him this desperate. He strengthened his grip, and hugged me. He had never hugged me with all that love, and now he had surrounded my body with his arms, joining our hands on my chest. And while I kept my legs wide open and cramped, the nurse closed the curtains and left us alone.

We closed our eyes. We strengthened our bond. We said nothing.

"You should say goodbye", adviced us, getting back inside, holding my little dead creature in her arms.

I wanted to laugh in her face so ironic, and ask her if she actually believed her stupid commentary would help, but I didn't. She didn't deserve a second of my time.

I stretched my arms when I felt the still warm of my baby's tiny body in my skin. He was no more than four inches, was lucky if he reached five and his weight was not more than a stick of butter. Cole's arms turned mine around, seeking supporting and love me. Held our little one on his arms also. I looked at my son with eyes misted and proud to have something so beautiful, wonderful and perfect in front of me: I had never seen anything so marvellous as the little thing that fit nicely in the palm of my hand. I smiled with pity when I noticed that my forebodings were always correct, and that the creature came with more malformations of which I would have liked to admit...but I think my mind blocked it and I couldn't see them like something wrong...all I could see it was his angelic pose...and the nose of his father.

I felt he squeezed me into his arms, me and the heir who now was guiding us from heaven, and we remained quiet...all three together. Cole didn't dare to move, despite how tired he must be for had held me all the time, and that his knees should be numbed for keeping me on them so long. And I, I dared not close my legs or move my arms one iota...for fear that this fragile and heartbreaking moment would you suffer a change.

Because knowing that was impossible. Because in full awareness that we had ruined everything even before it began, we had that stupid childish dream and hope that soon, only by a miracle, our little boy began to mourn...

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**Any comments?**


	3. My only sunshine

**Well, second chap. If you're getting frustrated -as some spanish readers are right now- feel free to ask me something/anything nice you'd like to see in the "happy ending" (There's light out there) I have no idea what to write there but kids in the spanish side asked me for writting a happy ending so...well...you got my point I stop babbling and let you read.**

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**Chapter two: My only sunshine.**

I don't know how many hours have passed since we lost our baby physically...but I know that Cole was asking Giovani to let us leave the institution for a couple of hours.

I was lying on the bed hugging my child and gently rocked him from side to side, pretending that he was alive and only sleeping. I softened at see the minimum size of his little hands perfectly developed, and diminutive little feet. He was that tiny that I could lay him on my hand, and he remained so...quiet and curled up on it.

The intruder waring white coat recommended me take the traces of his hands and little feet to keep them from memory: she always spoke to me, because she didn't know that Cole was the father. And it was better if I didn't want to see him in jail for statutory rape. I agreed and kept his little marks as a reminder of him forever, in a paper that for no one but us two was important.

The bedroom door opened again, and I pretended I didn't hear. I didn't want to force him to mask his feelings so quickly. I knew that he stared at us. I was lying with a pillow behind my head and still on the sheets stained with blood. Cole's shirt did not run better luck, of being blue, it was now dark red.

He walked up to me and held out his hand to help me sit, while the other gave support to my back while I tried to drag my cramped legs up leaving them hanging by the edge of the bed. He helped me a bit to move back and forth, to bend my knees a bit before I could think of walking.

He took a towel that had taken, and moistened with warm water from the sink. He knelt on the floor and began to clean the dried blood was on my legs, starting from my feet. Was gently, almost caressing and taking care to avoid spots. The yellow towel, was slowly turning orange. Wiped my crotch and the inside of my thighs with care, soft, very soft and shallow moves. Then he took another towel, dry, and made sure no skin left wet so that the clothes he had brought not moisten.

I watched, with our baby in my arms, couldn't believing it was real. He was putting me socks, my underwear, making sure the elastic will not squeeze my belly, and sweat pants that were comfortable. And now was the hardest thing: to change my shirt. Because I did not want for anything in the world, separate from our son.

But he was his father, he deserved it.

I handed him his baby to dress, for some reason, we felt that go out with me covered in blood was not a very good idea.

"Hold him", I asked, speaking for the first time after hours. The last thing I had said was "No..." before pushing.

Not wanting to get away from him, but I knowing it was the right thing, I left his baby in his muscular left bicep. My heart almost comes out of my chest just stopped feeling my little one in my arms, and I only managed to look at Cole. His eyes filled with tears as fast as lightning, but didn't drop them. He just grabbed his son more tightly to his chest and went through his side face with his fingers before wrapping his little hand in his.

I couldn't look.

It was too much for me.

"Take," Cole said, his voice cracking, handing something he carried in his pocket.

I stretched out my hand and got a sanitary napkin, I understood it was better to use in case my body wanted to play to bleed again. I put the blouse he had taken me, and I tied my hair in a ponytail.

"Help me stand up".

He held me bt my waist with his free hand, and carefully, without allowing me to move an inch, he made me got out of bed. He didn't release me, even when I felt my feet stable, weak, but better than nothing. I ended up doing what I had to, and together, we managed to put on my sneakers. I looked at him, realizing he had stopped to change his soiled pants for my blood before bringing me clean clothes and all that.

We were ready to go.

Or almost.

"My diary. I go for it, wait here".

"No", declined sharply.

He did not want me to stay alone so weak and sore as I was, especially aknowloading the dangers of the environment around. He took my waist firmer, and slowly but surely, started to walk. I just felt my legs and ankles were bent on their own, but it was he who was putting more effort than anyone in almost carrying me floating to my room.

Upon entering, I felt as if I had spent years, centuries, since I had been there last. The room looked tidy, the beds were unarmed, yes, but the rest, in complete balance. I went to my locker, pulled out my diary and put my baby's footprints inside, keeping my notebook between my shirt and my jacket. And I was ready.

Cole turned. He made me stood in front of him to use his armas as support as we walked. He handed me our baby and snuggled him into my chest, protecting him with his forearm also: that way, both carried the child. We walked together, I cared that the baby wouldn't fall and he that me wouldn't, because I could hardly stay awake...I was too tired.

He led me to a dark and empty hallway before stopping suddenly and sitting me on the ground with care. He handed me my son, regretting having to let him go.

"Wait".

He Moved a few feet away. He was going to a huge window down the hall. Cole took the fire extinguisher hanging on the wall and took a deep breath before hitting the glass with it. I heard the crack of all pieces, and instinctively protected my little one in my arms, but Cole was smart, and if he had left us there, was to avoid us getting wounded.

"Are you okay?," I asked, thinking he had been directly under the glass.

He nodded, and ended up removing bits that might hurt at the moment to exit. He turned to me and put me on his back and took jumped with me and my kid down, the distance between the window and the floor was just two meters, but anyway, I couldn't afford to do it by myself in a moment like that.

He didn't released me and led me into an alley, through which we crossed some broken bars down to a street full of cars. It would have been easier if the police had not been around other doors waiting for the release of the hostages.

"Are you okay?", He asked in a serious tone, almost imperceptible, to get me off the ground.

"Taxi!," I signed up in reply, and he did stop the vehicle in front of us.

He sat in the back seat. I leaned over him with my eyes closed, about to fall asleep from exhaustion and pain, my whole body was burning and all I needed was to close my eyes and relax. He made sure that my neck wasn't bending and hold the baby on my chest so I could relax my arms, without having to part with either of them.

I think I fell asleep for fifteen minutes away, and woke up when Cole put his arms around my waist to get me out of the car in front of the funeral home. I walked the few steps, fastened him, to enter the site. In reaching that depressing space that I didn't want to look in detail, Cole sat me in a chair and approached the counter. Spoke, saying something, that I didn't listen to but I know asked the clerk and pointed to our son in my arms to explain the size. The young man without an iota of compassion to be more than used to live with that kind of experiences, seeking out as described before returning. I dedicated myself to watch my son's beautiful face to not forget it never in my life. Cole paid for the small coffin that he had offered us for his structure before we go, and I had to watch it...to make sure it was the best for my baby. It was white, nearly square, with a small cross on top. It was perfect: it was delicate, beautiful and cruel.

As our history.

We left there and I started to walk towards a church that was about three or four blocks away, but Cole didn't allow me: he saw how much I suffered at every step and I was sleepy, so, despite being sick with pain and the loss that we were having, he engulfed me in his arms and carried me, myself and our angel to the church.

We came in.

I was suspended from his arms, and he just dropped me when we stopped in front of the priest of that place, which could be light, peace and quiet for everyone else, but to me, it was like a den of darkness and doom, because each once I stepped on the floor of a church was after the death of someone, making that a place full of pain and disturbing memories. My mother...I missed my mother.

Cole again took charge, while I kept hugging him trying not to yield to the floor. I was dizzy, dizzy, very tired. The priest agreed to hold a mass at ourselves, I think we gave him too much piy to say no.

"What is the name of this son of God?," asked us.

Cole and I looked each other, we had no idea what name he had.

"It's good that you name him, so the wound will heal one day and you will be able to remember him that way forever".

"Benjamin...," Cole replied immediately, "As my father", told me, and I agreed, because although I never had a father, Iunderstood, by the way his eyes sparkled, how much he had meant his to him.

"Benjamin Turner", I added myself.

I knew his lastname should have been "Halliwell" as my grandmother had always told me, but I wanted him to have his father lastname as a gift from me to him.

"Benjamin Marie Turner-Halliwell", he said, and he didn't care that the name would be useful if a bully wanted to make fun of our kid, though as a french name they used that name for males also, because he'd never have to afford one, "As your middle name", he said.

I couldn't help but surprise, how did he knew that?

Cole grabbed me harder, and each stretched out a hand attached to the other to lay down Benjamin between. The man undertook of gave him all the blessings and protections necessary for him to go to heaven, if that really existed. And I hoped so, because my angel deserved to be in the most sacred place and height of paradise. He said a few words to calm our minds, or I suppose, because I really couldn't listen. Each sound coming out of his mouth wasn't more than anything, waves and vibrations mixed with air in a sort of whirlpool that passed by me before going long.

Once the ceremony was done and we both had dropped silent tears and almos in private, Cole and I held hands, or rather, he was instructed to kept me up and in balance with the strength of his left arm. I carried Ben in the right one, and together, we took the small casket where our baby would rest.

We took another taxi, in total silence, embracing all three. Every inch, every second, did nothing but wallow in pain. In the pain that surrounded us the three, in the deep abyss of destruction which had fallen one by one, with or without guilt, voluntarily or involuntarily. And even my desire of dying silenced the cries of my torn lost hope were strong enough to distract me from the feeling of loss to miss up this angel, though he had never been mine, I'd never stop loving.

We arrived at the cemetery and my skin prickled. Gradually the force of events were making me understand what was happening in my life, in our lives. And I refused to move forward. Taking a step, two, three, four steps, would make me reach the end of all this without even being able to process anything. While not being able yet to understand that at some point, I was pregnant...and I could't digest what, how would I understood everything else?, How all what left to do would make sense for me? But one step, two, or more, wouldn't stop the reality.

Cole guided me, carrying me again to where was the mausoleum of the Turner's, where we tacitly, decided to bury him: I couldn't let my family found out all this and to make them suffer more than they had already suffered from the hard lives they lived, and Cole knew he was the last Turner left after her two children, so none would ask questions.

Despite I wished with all my heart, that things had gone differently, I found the strength to move forward and wait Cole to perform some more procedures.

And I thought that no one besides us, Helena, Rubi and Gisselle, and the white coat woman, would know that once existed Benjamin Turner, who his parents were, and least that he had died. And it hurt me to know that. It hurt that anyone in the world recognized my son as my own, or that only the eldest daughter of Cole was entitled to tell everyone he was he father. It was not jealousy, just sadness, even I would have liked that the little girl had had the opportunity to hold his brother in arms...even though the idea was completamante crazy and impossible. No. It was better than the girl, and no one else, knew anything of this twisted story.

I wish I didn't have to be part of it.

But I don't regret anything except this sad ending.

We accommodated the pearl casket in its place, and the caretaker of the cemetery, known of Cole, mde a quick stone for our Benjamin.

"Martyr. Son. Angel," I said, uttering something, realizing that I wasn't molt and feeling that I wasn't me who was talking. I couldn't even recognize my own voice.

Cole looked at me and watched my epitaph was written on the grave of the little boy lying in my arms.

"It's time", the guy told us, indicating the space where the tomb of our sound was going to placed, with him inside.

And it was time to say goodbye.

I looked at Cole, and he looked at me with eyes full of tears, nodding slowly. I handed Ben to him, and he went for a walk with him before returning. During the time when we were apart, I couldn't do more than torture myself and imagine that what they were doing was just a Sunday drive while I stayed at home, studying for an exam or just resting after sleepless nights or even a short walk by the clinic after giving birth. And I clung to that, to my mind, which was much more beautiful than anything he had ever passed through my mind.

It could all start from a few weeks after our marriage. He would come home after work, and I would be there, waiting with a surprise. I would wear my best dress, greet him with a kiss on the door and guide him to the table, where dinner would be prepared almost gourmet. He'd be surprised, and would say something like:

"What is it, Phoebe?"

Yes, he would pronounce my name. Not like now, because Cole never, ever, had said my name aloud. But in this reality, he would always say it. In the morning at waking up, at night to go to sleep. When he called me to my cellphone during the day, in some absurd argument and every time we make love. Because he and I would not have sex anymore, but love...make love. Different, subtle, but different.

"Dinner for two," would be my answer, and would remove his tie as he sits, still looking at me curiously.

"Are we celebrate anything?," he would ask, and I'd smile, while I serve two glasses: one for water, another of red wine.

"A dinner for two," I'd repeat, looking into his eyes with special tenderness, amused by his confusion, "to celebrate three".

And he would make a grimace at not understand, and I would hit his glass and mine. Cole would know the difference of our glasses, do a few sums, and then his eyes would drop to my belly.

"Yes," I'd laugh, seeing him gettin pale, "We are three since three months Cole, I didn't want to tell you until be sure th..."

And before I could finish my answer, he would kiss me. He'd kiss me fleeting and passionately, unable to believe the wonderful news. And I'd laugh, laugh to see him kissing my belly and asking, many things, many things...

The months would began to move forward. Fourth month, fifth month, sixth month. We would discuss because he doesn't lets me do anything and treates me as disabled, and I'd buy almost the full shops of babies stuff, thinking of all the best for our child. Cole would be happy with a boy, but he'd be too cute to really worry about the gender of our heir, saying "Boy, girl, whatever. Healthy is what interests me." And that would always make me smile...and month seven, eight would pass, and month nine make us nervous with each false alarm...and I'd be angry, tired of back pain and seeing him laughing at me and my grimaces.  
Until one day, the alarm would be true, and we would arrive at the hospital. I would go quiet breathing to the rhythm of nervous cries of Cole, who would be much more desperate than me. It would be my turn to laugh now and get some visits from my family. My sisters would be proud, my grandmother eager to meet her grandson. And when the time to push came, I'd go into panic, but Cole would calm me by taking my hand and promise me that everything would be fine.

And later, I'd have my child in my arms, alive. Crying. Screaming. Kicking. Alive.

"Is perfect", I would say, kissing him, and allowing Cole to hold him in his arms.

"He is", he'd repeat, also kissing him and saying aloud, "Welcome to the world, Benjamin".

Then, he'd convince me to sleep, telling me that anything bad would happen if I did and as I lay in my room, accompanied by my proud sisters, he would take a walk down the hall to listen to our baby mourn. And I'd expect them to come back, not wanting to tell him that his crying was because he missed mommy.

Cole returned, touched my shoulder and woke me from my reverie. It hurt. My hopes and dreams broke with a single and well-aimed blow. He rested Benjamin in my arms. My dead son. And did it without telling me anyhing, without say my name. Without giving me false promises of a better future or that the pain would go away soon, that everything would be fine.

Reality.

I didn't leave the room; had nothing to hide to the person I loved, because yes, I loved Cole. I was deeply and hopelessly in love with him, as never before in my short life. And I wanted, somehow, that he and who would go on to seal the grave of my son, would ever witness, Phoebe Halliwell was attempting to be mature and a good mother, who loved her baby with all her heart and that when separated from him would also left half of her heart. The other would go with Cole on the time and day that we had to separate.

"Sorry..."

I held Benjamin stronger in my arms and kissed his forehead. My whole body was shivering and my lips barely dared to touch his cold face, for fear of hurting him. I wiped the tears dropped on his skin, and then took one of his hands and put it on mine. It was tiny...and did nothing but I wished he grasped my finger, like every baby does to find her mother's hand, but he did not.

He would never do it.

"I'm sorry", I said this time, kissing both hands and I heard that Cole took a step to get closer to me, but didn't at the end, and I think it was the best.

I took his little feet, which also kissed after outlining his tiny fingers and, while my heart broke in pieces, I began to walk him to the mausoleum to wrap myself in the arms of his father. He, with no trace of tears in his eyes, strengthened our contacts and both began to cuddle him, walking to the small coffin space about three or four meters away.

"The other nite dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms...," I whispered, remembering that wonderful song my grandmother used to sing to me when I was a child, then every time Helena had sung it when missed my home, "When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken...and I hung my head and cried".

My ankles were benting, my arms tried to assert over my two great loves and Cole prevented me from falling, hugging me harder, as I held my son, trying not to mourn again. He was strong for me, for me, and I knew it. I appreciated it. Because it was with those gestures that showed me love, affection, appreciation for me. Not in words, not with sweet or tender touch...but, being with me, even in those horrible moments and rough. For refusing to feel, for refusing to give up, stand up only for me.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, When skies are grey...", I continued, rocking him slowy, walking to the bed where my Benjamin would sleep forever.

I could barely sing, only could make some mumbled and jerky tones, but tried to do it as sweet as I could to express all my love for him...not stopping singing, because I wanted him to sleep peacefully and to have sweet dreams forever. I wanted him to remember my voice, and recognize it when we could meet again.

"You'll never know...", I pursed my lips, feeling unable to continue, but I had to," how much I love you...please...", I kept looking at the sky, as if waiting for a miracle,"don't take my sunshine away..."

I hid my face in Cole's chest, and bit his shirt as I did time before, not wanting to give a cry of pain and frustration to avoid disturbing our son. He separated us, and guided our hands to lay Benjamin on the smooth surface on which we were letting him rest. Our hands were among the small body of our kid and the pillow that was receiving him. And we didn't want them out of there. We did not want to quit, give up to our heart.

"You'll never know...how much we love you", I said, taking my hand from the little white wooden coffin,"My sweet sunshine...mommy and daddy will always love you..."

That said, I stopped crying and couldn't speak again. Now, after so much suffering, I saw myself unable to feel anything. I saw that Cole pulled his hand as well, and this time, our son was alone. He looked calm and peaceful. He was wrapped in a beautiful silk handkerchief had given us in the church, and had traces of my tears on his face alongside those of Cole. His eyes closed, hands curled and bearing of a prince. He was my prince, my little sunshine, who had come down to try to light, but I couldn't find a way to accept that much light in my life. Failing to make it part of me, but, as always with everything good and holy, I destroyed it.

"I love you...," I heard from Cole that was looking how our little one was disappearing from our view as the man closed the cover of his tiny coffin.

And I smiled. Little, almost imperceptibly, almost without noticing at hearing that statement from a father to his son. And we saw how to the man kept his memory in an area with his grandfather, Benjamin Turner, and the space was sealed with his tombstone.

"Benjamin Marie Turner-Halliwell. 2010. Martyr. Son. Angel."

With that image piercing our eyes, digging into our chest, ripping our hearts and diluting our last glimmer of hope, we left the mausoleum.

We continued moving in the direction of the street to return to rehab centerl. Both of us walked: there was nothing to protect, not an ounce of pain that could be avoided, therefore I didn't allow Cole to carry me again. We were physically separated, each at the opposite way of the another, for the simple fear to break without being able to walk again. We were a broken heart only, one person dying in two separate bodies, one more sick and useless than the other.

And I couldn't, even when I wanted, to avoid falling to the ground crying in pain. I was hysterical, screaming, kicking, beating myself up trying, somehow, to release all the pain, anger and frustration that I couldn't before, needing somehow get away of all that. I needed stop feeling, I needed drugs, alcohol, and die. I didn't want to think about my son. I wanted to stop feeling that physical fatigue after having physically separated from him. The poignant anguish of not having achieved nothing and have lost it after pushing five condemned times.

Cole seemed to be the same or worse than me, and I think we look worse than pathetic. He walked up to me and put his arms around me. He held my wrists to prevent further scratching, slapping, punching myself...to make me stop hurting me. And I yelled. Shouted strongly from the most deepth side of my spirit not knowing what else to do at such a time: never in my life something had hurt me that much. He rocked me slowly back and forth, trying to reassure me. I felt I couldn't breathe, barely maintaining consciousness. Cole took my face in his hands, cleared my face and without looking at me, eyes closed, kissed me.

Slowly.

It was a sweet kiss, quiet, peaceful. Was full of pain, disappointment, hopelessness.

I continued, almost without energy, because I needed him...and he was giving me the support that he himself was missing. And we couldn't , we didn't want to get apart, and for long minutes we were just our lips together, exchanging feelings from our injured, hurt, wounded hearts.

Pain.

We shared pain after losing our only star, and just knowing that we would lose the other in a very short time.

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**I'm lucky enough to say I have never attended to a funeral, burial or anything related, so I'm not really sure what do people after somebody dies. I hope I haven't offended anyone.**

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	4. Flying high

**Hi kids! Here's more :D I hope you're away from scissors and that kind of sutff whenever you read a chapter of this lol**

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**Chapter Three: Flying high.**

When we reached the center again, my feelings were completely drained, like those of Cole. He was cold, hard and cruel again, but this time, I also am. There were no traces of the sensitive, confused and hormonal girl who had entered this place six months ago, not one.

Terrible screams, thumping sound, noise, fights and stuff cracked, made us forget about everything for the next few seconds. We started running at full speed, so afraid that I didn't care and my pain, and Cole seemed to be under the same conditions because he hadn't stopped me in my race. We had this horrible feeling that something horrible was happening on the court, and there was no single moment to lose.

Things are flying around.

Chairs, books, sports balls, plastic bottles and glass bottles, clothing, broomsticks, all what could be useful as a defensive weapon. The backyard, the former discharge area, had become a scenario of a war as fierce as I had never seen before.

Something make me run faster and Cole followed me.

My legs were going fast, hectic, and I was wishing that teleportation exist. My feet hurt, I was within seconds of falling and tears clouded my vision, but could not stop. I felt Cole running beside me, faster than me, and that was good because he was much more important and helpful than me at that moment.

Finally I crossed the courtyard and I couldn't even cry, only I managed to bend down and pull Rubi from her arms, while Cole, who had arrived a few seconds earlier, had already been taken Giovani out of our friend.

Rubi was paralyzed and cried silently and as pale as a sheet. I hugged her, she didn't move even a little. While trying to raise her pants, I was looking for Cole, but I couldn't find him: too many people walking around the place. Instead, I could see Gisselle knocked out on the floor, a few meters from us. I felt some blood in my fingers to run my hands through the tighs of Ruby, and I had to stifle a groan when I looked more closely and noticing all wounds, bumps and bruises that had spread over her body, but couldn't help but shed a tear...It wasn't fair!, It wasn't fair for her!, It wasn't fair that something like this would happen to her again.

I kept looking, desperate to find Cole, terrified that something would happen to him and I could not do anything to help. My heart was seconds away from stop beating when I saw him being surrounded by two or three of his roommates, which had joined forces with Giovanni: the complete set of Cole's roommates ran this madness, except him of course and thank God, if there was a God who would allow all this. I feared of what they could do, but I could breathe again when I saw that instead of reducing or beaten him, they helped to tie Giovani with ropes and jackets, anything to stop him.

I saw that he was being dragged to the center, possibly to lock him somewhere, and that was the beginning of the end. We had to catch the others who had agitated, remove the weapons and deliver them all to the police. Things had gone too far, too many deaths, too many wounded ...and Rubi raped again, making her relive all the trauma of her past, the reason of why she was there.

I had to let my friend because...yes, she was my friend. She had protected me and guided me, care for me as long as I had been locked up there, and had been hurt...and with that, Giovani also had hurt me. Because the relationship we had formed the four, was of sisterhood, twisted, strange, yes, but a sisterhood after all. I had to separate from Rubi, because I needed to run to Gisselle to prevent someone hurt her, maybe I could still protect her. I carried as I could, I really don't know how, on my wounded and battered body to assemble to the broken jewel.

"I'm coming back, I promise ", I said to Rubi, taking her face in my hands and making her look in my eyes, but there was no life in them, "I love you," I said honestly before kissing her forehead, fearing leaving them alone, but Helena didn't appear anywhere and I feared the worst.

I ran, not caring receive something flying stuff at my head or somewhere else, looking everywhere where could be the last of my friends. I was desperate. Each second became more intense, not knowing where was Cole, not to imagine in what conditions would be Helena, and while thinking about Rubi and Gisselle.

I'm on the verge of despair. I don't see her anywhere.

I ran, and stumbled to my own numbness and fatigue. I felt some blood in my thighs, not too much, but possibly because all the movements and racing I shouldn't be doing. I ignored it, more concerned of supporting my hands on the ground to avoid hitting my face, and the scraps in my knees reminded me falls at Skylark when I was a child. I sobbed, by reflection, and several tried to stand again, without success. I was too weak, tired and scared, about to give up, as usual. Give up, resign, and wait for the world to continue spinning without my doing anything to stop it...disappointing Gisselle, not fulfill the promise to back be back I did to Rubi, don't fight for the life of Helena and...don't say goodbye to Cole, unless he sought me, because otherwise, I knew I wouldn't see him anymore.

And when my head stopped trying to stand tall, even on the floor, and lay on the ground, I could see before ahead my eyes, someone hiding a few seats further: it was Helena. I had found Helena. Perhaps God does exist.

I took a deep breath, I let out a loud and heavy moan, and found myself standing, staggering, but walking to her. I saw her, and cleared her face with tears as she stretched her arms towards me like a baby, hugging while shivering.

"Pheebs," sobbed, stunned, was suffering the effects of withdrawal.

"Come with me," I asked, helping her to get out from under the bench and stand.

"Are you okay?", she asked with difficulty, just spinning the words to look at some crimson spots near my groin.

I said nothing, but nodded before lean on her shoulder. She did the same on mine, and between the two, each more miserable than the other, we got to the place where I had left Gisselle and Rubi. Although I swear that I never expected to see the scene in front of my eyes: the little Gisselle wept bitterly over the bloodied body of Rubi. On the body of our more glaring jewel, who had practiced self-injury for the last time during my absence and the unconsciousness of Gisselle.

"No...", shook Helena, crying and letting go of my grip, screaming from the depths of her soul, "No!"

I saw her bend kneeling next Gisselle, made desperation. She scream out loud, both were kicking and crying, saying things I couldn't understand, while I could only mourn up...thinking about the poor Rubi and horrible fate, thinking about my little son and how much I missed him already, and thinking about how and where Cole would be at that time.

The disorder was calmed, or at least the girls and I had lost track of time and space sense and don't care about the cataclysm that was around, except of the fact that Cole wasn't close. We fell asleep...dead of pain next to each other, the three embraced, regardless of anything, nothing more to not separate us.

I felt cries, cheers, complaints, and it was too noisy to be able to continue sleeping. I opened my eyes, confused for a moment, wondering where I was, until I remembered everything that happened before going to the world of dreams. Helena seemed just to be reacting like me... and Rubi, she was as cold as a stone. I didn't get the chance to weep, to cry, to mourn, anything to realize it...because I heard the cry of Helena. A shrill cry, piercing, that shook up the depths of my being before being able to guide my eyes to the subject of her hysteria.

"Gisselle!"

I looked up, and in the fifth and last floor of the institution, the girl in white dress stained with blood was standing on a railing, looking down with a curious face.

"Get out of there now!", Helena shouted, as long as the blonde up to the task, risking her life and integrity.

Although we took care of the four, generally, Helena was responsible for taking care of Gisselle, Gisselle to Rubi, Rubi to me and I Helen. This time, the cycle didn't work...it could not work, because it was broken. I just took the hand of my friend, because we both knew that this was the last time she had to watch Gisselle.

"No!, I'm gonna fly Helena!", said with a sincere smile, as happy as if she were wearing one of hier new dresses, "I'll meet with Rubi up there!"

She closed her eyes, smiled broadly before extending her arms. She leaned forward, parting her heels off the floor and slowly starting to go down. Neither, I nor Helen could see, and the sound of her body against the concrete, was what told us that she had did it.

"She's still alive," someone shouted, and we reacted immediately.

Everything started to go to at low speed, slow motion and I would even say, in sepia, She was alive?, from that height?, Was he joking?

I tried to space myself up from the public to crouch beside her, and saw her body bent in ways impossible for a human in its natural state. I turned my head, looking for the presence of Helena, noticing she wasn't around us. A group of people started moving, letting the girl that my eyes were looking for walk through, and I could see in her hands a bloody knife, the same that had used Rubi. She sat next to Gisselle, and her, after a few failed attempts, managed to ask:

"Am I going high?"

I covered my mouth, not knowing what to say and I couldn't do more than take her little hand in mine, stroking her forehead lovingly as she had during my labor.

As she always had.

Helena took her other hand, imitating my touch and closed her eyes slowly, letting her tears fall on the face of the sweet little girl lying on the floor.

"Yes," replied Helena, surprising me by the force of her spirit that still remain calm, "very high dear," she whispered in Gisselle's ear.

I continued stroking her forehead, finding nothing else to do, closing my eyes unable to see how the knife Helena brought was nearer and near our friend's neck, and quickly ended with her life before she had to agonize in these painful conditions and with no hope of surviving, for hours.

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**Well, tan tan. **

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**ButterflyEyes24:** Hi there! thank you so much for both reviews! It means a lot, seriously. I hope you liked this chapter, next one will be bitter-sweet :D

**Phole:** I know! I need a shrink lol!


	5. Happy birthday Phoebe

**Okay, you didn't reviewed and conviced me this sucks lol anyway I'm being nice or egolatra and posting a new chapter :D**

* I know Phoebe's birthday is November 2, and here we're lucky if it's August, but that's the way things went lol I'm sorry. 

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**Chapter four: Happy birthday, Phoebe.**

The disaster seemed to start its end, or at least taken a break now that we had all been sent back to our rooms by the fools who had repented us to take us as hostages. The bodies of those killed were in the field, all lying on the ground and injured people wandering around the nursery and the rooms closest to it.

Helena and I had two heavy trayects from the field to our room to lay down our friends on their beds...we didn't want they to be alone in that cold cement. Now both were in our matress, staring at the ceiling and waiting for anything...well, the truth, we hoped to see Cole walking through that door to make sure he was healthy and safe.

She was despondent, almost like a zombie, pale, her eyes red from crying and swaying back and forth, with an empty syringe in her hand. I didn't understand what she pretended, just know that was with withdrawal symptoms without trying to stop them...maybe she was punishing herself for failing to do anything about Rubi and Gisselle.

I had extended my diary on my bed and a pen in my hand, writting something very important I managed to finish before a noise distracted me: the door opened and I returned from a jump, trying to get off the bed to get to Cole and hug him, but he extended his arms to receive me without having to make greater efforts. My legs tangled in his hip and my fingers in his hair, as happy as ever now that I knew he was alive.

"Are you wounded?," I asked immediately, taking his face in my hands, stroking his cheek and for respect to his custom, without looking into his eyes.

"No," he said slowly, very slowly and put me on my bed, "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine", I said, knowing he was referring to my physical state, because my emotional had no possible way in the universe to be right.

He nodded and heard a small groan from Helena. He let me go, turned around and sighed something before running to her and repair, that she had used the empty needle to inject air directly into her veins. She would die soon.

"Go with them...", he advised, referring to Gisselle and Rubi.

"She's leaving, right?", I asked, watching him wrap her in his arms, giving her some heat.

"Yes".

It was understandable that she would want to die. For years, Gisselle, Cole and Rubi, were the only family she had, and now...now there was nothing worth fighting for. All what she knew was gone, all she had, had left her forever.

"Than...ks", she managed to say in the end, when she felt the company of our mutual friend with her.

It broke my heart to hear that voice cracked and weak, also see Cole's face covered with tears, stroking Helena. Nobody said anything. She stopped breathing slowly and we two, cried her loss.

Time went slowly, agonizing, inevitably painful and impossible to stop, and less to reverse.

I saw that he stood up and took me in his arms before leaving me sitting on the bed of Helena. Took our dead friend, and carefully placed her on my bed. He covered her with a blanket and hid her face, like she and I had done with the other two. I went over his back and shoulders strocked and kissed one of them. He took my hand and led me back to bed, lying me on it very carefully to the side of the wall. Cole laid next to me and I leaned on his chest, curled up like a girl. He tangled his arms around me, gently.

He looked at his watch.

"Happy birthday, Phoebe," he whispered in my ear, the first time I had heard my name from his mouth.

I was surprised, I will not lie. I didn't even remember that day, actually, it was my birthday, and thought that was impossible that he knew that. But he knew, he always knew everything.

The world was too cruel and ironic to be able to understand it, and trying to do it was to risk a brain collapse typical for existential questions. It was assumed that a birthday is celebrate the life of a person, meet friends, family, and, make you, in short, the single most important being around everyone, and that day, I had been. I had been the chosen one by the stupid rapier universe to be the guinea pig of the evil plans of the miserable life, because that day, the day of my eighteenth birthday, I had lost what I loved most in the world: I had lost my son.

Also, I had lost my three best and only friends, one after another, each more tragic and impossible to erase from my memory. But at the same time, the day of my birthday, he had called me by my name, making me see that he also knew the moment to say goodbye had arrived.

Today, I was losing him.

"I would have loved to have make this day a happy one for you," he said, surprising me again with his attack of sensitivity, "but it's too late, even to give you a little present...the garden plants are all dead, I can't even give you a flower..."

He sounded sincere, torn. His pain was real...and he meant what he was saying, at heart. I removed in his arms and leaned my elbows on his chest, before looking at his face with something to ask about it.

"Do you know what I want from you?", I asked, thinking of my last three birthday wishes.

"No, tell me".

"There are three things," I explained, and he sat up in the bed, putting all his attention, and even more than necessary on me, "The first is the one I want now. The other two, I will say you later".

"I'm listening," he prompted.

"I have always...I always wanted to know," I said picking up some confidence, knowing perfectly that he could fulfill my desire without any problem, "I want to know how it feels to make love, Cole. The real love. How does it feel when the butterflies in my stomach are reciprocated and...when somebody seriously touches me. I, for once, want to feel one with my partner, not a toy...that every sensation is real, that it comes from depths, without drugs, Cole, with no witnesses...and I want to make it with you..."

I could see that his eyes were glazed, and nodded slowly. He pursed his lips, letting out a sob, because that would be the last time in which we would be together, we knew it. It hurt me as much as him, knowing that we were madly in love and of a relationship that had brought nothing but pain, sorrow and disappointment, but it was real.

We loved each other.

Cole didn't say anything, but took my chin in one of his hands and kissed me, gently and slowly on the lips. Barely moving, slowly, tentatively, as if was the first time in life we gave one. And his lips were soft, moist and warm, like so many times...but it was much slower, almost fearful. I got carried away, slowly, his tongue opened my mouth so tortuously slowly, his tongue made its way and finding my own, danced and enjoyed masterfully, as if he were the master and I was his student.  
With the same slow pace, his hands rough and rugged, snaked by tickling my skin, until they got rid of my shirt and the heat began to rise. Further enjoy the way my neck, guided by my collarbone to reach my earlobe...he knelt his teeth gently, managed to wrest an involuntary groan and guttural sound.

He kept handing his kisses on my shoulder, and I gasped when he stopped, and using the strength he possessed, lifted my legs and made me surround his hip with my legs. He threw his head back, emitting a groan overshadowed by my arrhythmic breath as I felt his mouth on my breast, caressing with devotion every inch of my clavicles, reaching the midpoint between them. He continued down until he found my bra off his freedom to move, and with a swift, fleeting movement, it was out of the way...and let him focus on me again.

I shivered, shuddered under his touch like a virgin instead of who I really was, feeling clean and delicate for once, after many years. And he was so soft, tender, just for me and just thinking about me...I was about to achieve the ecstasy before doing anything.

He was slowly, irresistibly slowly. Unrepeatably slowly. At last, going slowly.

He slid his hands down my back, put me closer to his chest and massaged my back a little, after so much hours of labor, effort and races, it really felt good. I didn't stay back in parting, and I used my position to kiss his torso and play a bit with the hair on his chest, drawing lines without form or sense with my fingers, putting together a trail of wet kisses, shy and warm on his neck, grazing his chin, feeling his rough beard tickling and it was fun, new and exciting.

He undid my pants, the same he had put me so carefully a few hours before going to bury our little boy, and laid me back on the mattress. He seemed a little nervous, still undecided whether to continue or not, because, after the misscarry, was more than clear that we shouldn't do anything, but I was not interested. No pain or anything. I wanted him, I wanted him now, for the last and first time before everything was over.

I took his hands, which were a little stiff and took them to my hips, I encouraged him and helped get off my sweat pants, I did and he did. I hissed a bit at the burning sensation, and cool at the same time. He had come to take my underwear as well.

He stood watching.

Agitated, erratic breathing and with my chest playing going up and down without rhythm, I could hardly breathe with coordination. It was for the first time in my life that I was having a real relationship. There were no drugs, no alcohol, just him and me; the need to feel and love each other. This time, my excitement and Cole were real: they were sincere. Were due to the desire to want to share the depth we had, to each other. Was the need to convert into one, before having to say goodbye. Was the effect of the attraction that our bodies produced, and the anxiety to meet with them.

I saw him shaking, still dressed and looking me in detail, carefully analyzing every inch of my being. His eyes were moist, his face flushed and purple circles under his eyes more than ever, and he still looked beautiful. And I can't not imagine him more perfect, I met him that way and I loved him the same. He leaned forward, kissed my forehead and kept kissing me down, slowly. He went through my nose and placed a tender kiss on my lips and went up to my navel. I felt his breath hit my skin, it made me unable to think of nothing but him, his hands exploring, his lips moistening the way they took.

I saw him shed a tear, I did too: it was the first time he kissed my belly without our son was there. I felt useless, I felt empty, I was on the verge of exploding in distress when I noticed I was the one who put the end to our little family...and he still, despite everything, stroked that important place before returning to my mouth. I felt his hard hit my abdomen, and his hands were wrapped in mine while his knees were placed, one on each side of my waist. I started to unbutton his pants, a little desperate to have him with me, but more slowly to extend our time together. At last, we stripped off his jeans and boxers, and without my help, he took off his shirt.

I looked up and smiled. His arms were shivering, his chest was sweating and his eyes had tears in them. He gave me another kiss on the lips, almost crushing me with his weight and listened to gasp at the lack of air, a mixture of the meeting and crying. I didn't like when he shown hard and unfeeling, but preferred that, before him with tears, especially if he was doing it for me, although that would indicate he was more than love with this idiot.

I wiped his face with my thumb, and gave him a kiss on the nose. That seemed to have encouraged him, and I heard a barely audible laughter. He stroked my thighs making small circles with his fingers before he get to my knees. He spread my legs, with something of fear to see them stained with dried blood on a terrifying contrast against my white skin, but by then, we no longer care about anything apart from us.

Absolutely nothing.

I moaned, quite loudly when I felt a finger was introduced in me, mingled pleasure and sadness. He warned, looking away, and I covered my mouth, with a mischievous smile, wanting to tell him that all was well. Still, he didn't believe me and with his another hand, he took my face.

And it happened.

For the first time since our first time together, Cole looked into my eyes. I thought I was finally crazy. For a moment I thought it was just an absurd dream, and then remembered it was a farewell, and I understood that was real.

I nodded, and took the hand that was in my face in mine. I smiled, and in one way or another I told him, without speaking, to go ahead. He understood, although he was terribly nervous, which amused me anyway: this was the real Cole, which I and only I was able to see through his cold wall of ice.

He took a breath, I saw him frown and closed his eyes, settling best of my thighs. And it happened again: he opened his eyes and looked directly at them. He said I love you. Not given a word, but I knew that he had said that, because I felt that sweet heat in the chest and across my body I had dreamed with forever. I dropped a tear of emotion and bit my lip, without losing the connection with such wonderful and perfect blue eyes. I had never been so happy in my life and I never would have expected to being told something like that by someone else than my grandmother or my sisters ever.

Gradually, I felt that one of his hands went down to where we were going to come together, and slowly began to try to make some space to get in. I grazed when I felt him toiching me there. I felt so nervous as it were my first time, and that it was my first time. Our first time.

He asked me again with his eyes, and I repeated so. And the pain was indescribable, I really understand now why there was post natal quarantine. I squinted, dropping hundreds of tears with just the intrusion of his tip.

Cole tried to get back, get out, but I groaned slowly, shook my head and took his hand in mine. He nodded, he was scared, but continued a slow pace that I thought he was not moving. Every inch more, it hurt a little less, but nothing was stronger and distracting to know that his eyes and mine were connected, not separate, still talking, saying so many things...  
And I wasn't nervous. Nor was afraid, because I knew, because I had no doubt that he loved me as much as I loved him. He stopped moving, trying to make me believe that that was his limit. I smiled: I knew him too well to know that there was more. I pushed my hips forward, hinting that I wanted him to get all over, and not just one piece. He grumbled, annoyed at being discovered and pushed further. It was funny to see that for the first time, going deep wasn't what he was looking for.

And now, he was completely in. I threw my head back, feeling it had been tense for too long and my neck was starting to hurt and he put his hands on my neck to give me more support, taking care not to crush me with his body. He wasn't moving, and it was better...he knew I was going to tell him when he could continue.

He kissed my cheek, and slowly descended to my breasts, which always left a bit battered and bruised after going through his teeth or hands, but this time, were treated with the respect they deserved. It made me see colors, stars, thrilled by the soft touch of his tongue, while the pressure down there was getting more bearable, despite the harsh beating of his member anxious to start to play, fighting against the consciousness of its owner, who was looking over my being wellness, not his.

When everything is so different, you start to wonder, how real things actually arel. But I wasn't there to make me more existential questions, but feel and enjoy that moment of peace. That moment of love. My first birthday wish.

Between each stroke, between each contact, the more he touched me that way so exciting and new, more I was awakening from my slumber and leaving the pain aside. Every time I arched my back, ended with him more eager to start playing, and although I liked to see onthe face he was making an effort not to start, I decided it was time for us to continue with our dance.

I saw his face of relief when I took my hands to his butt, urging him to move, but also his doubt, hoping for a stronger confirmation and my eyes were not enough.

"Go on".

And that, convinced him. He still feeling guilty, before sinking slowly back again, always slowly, fearing to hurt me, terrified.

For a few minutes in my head there was nothing more than pleasure, pain, sadness and happiness that ran through my body together with Cole's, because there was no room for personal thoughts when we were just one soul. We shared the four feelings, as well as one that encompassed them all: love.

Because love was the guilty, because of love our soul were thus torn.

Love gave us life, had taken it, and now, had us hanging in a balance of which, each would fall to a different side.

Separated.

Feeling Cole was the purest and new sensation I had experienced in my life after giving birth and all that it related to our baby, of course. We were a few seconds left, increasingly, the end was closer. And I was happy to believe that what I was hearing was true.

"I love you Phoebe", Cole moaned, almost hitting his chest against mine, looking into my eyes with no intentions of quitting.

"I love you Cole", I managed to articulate, feeling, as my orgasm and his faded, my energy started to leave.

We stayed for a while, the two together, afraid to move. We managed to barely breathe, afraid of what might happen now. Cole decided to stay inside wasn't the best for anyone, and slowly, with the utmost care, he left me and leaned me over his body. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I closed my eyes, hiding my face in his sweaty and naked torso. He took one of his hands up my thighs, stroking my skin with it completely, registering to perfection every detail of me with his palm. And I made an effort to memorize every inch of his skin, was the only way to never forget him.

I wrapped my arms to him, and gathered my left hand with his, letting it rest in my boiling and still agitated belly. My right hand, just like his through my body, ran his.

"My second wish," I whispered, starting to lose track of where I was, but not with whom, "I want you to get back your family. For me and for Benjamin, you have to".

I heard him sob, hug me and rock me harder slightly: once uttered the last, we would have reached the ned. I don't want to go, but I couldn't stay longer.

"The thir one...", I said almost babbling while my eyes began to see more blurred than before,"Cole, honey, don't hate me for going after him. Love, please, don't hate me for wanting to rest in peace..."

The sound of the clock strike twelve at night with the sad, saying goodbye love blue eyes, swearing that would meet my demands, were the last things that I was aware before everything went out to black.

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**Okay my marvellous crew, next chapter is the last one before the epilogue. **


	6. My angel

**W****ell, as I said like a thousand times, last chapter before prologue. **

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**Chapter Five: My angel.**

People often have many theories about many things, and many say that when you die, you see your life flash before your eyes in a serie of animated film, soundproof, often in black and white showing you every moment of it, even those you believed to have forgotten.

But I've also heard that at the final moment, you focus all your soul in a single memory that decides for you to take the road to heaven or hell. I don't know what is or is not true according to all the beliefs of many cultures, people and more people, but what happens now.

I can see a thousand things. Many images loose, messy, thad don't make much sense. There are bad things and painful memories, as the humiliation of my classmates, my fights with Prue, Paige and Piper, the horrible ways of answering my grandmother...the deaths of my friends. I also see good and beautiful things, like my happy birthdays with my sisters, my first kiss with a guy who really liked me, that time I won a contest for short stories in school...gramms was so proud of me then...

The latest images were about my last time with Cole, and more than images, are feelings and emotions with him. Because he was my world, my savior and executioner at the same time. Because the smell of his skin, the touch his back, the strength of his arms...the taste of his lips were...so special, different and unique, not possible to portray in a simple image.

And everything is condensed into a small light, which gradually gets bigger and brighter. I want to touch it...I want to be part of it, and stretch my fingers as far as I can until I feel the warm feeling of well being that gives me: I don't think twice, I go through.

My body feels light, healthy and free. Anything does hurt. I'm not tired or feel sad. I'm not dizzy, my ankles don't tremble and feel as if a burst of energy hit my chest, spreading to every inch of my being. Everything begins to unravel as the light fades, and I can see a small figure is clearly defined in front of me.

I am not surprised, nor crying, because I feel I belong to that place, at last, I feel I belong somewhere...not for the space where I am, but for the person standing below.

It's my son.

It's not the same baby I got with no life in my arms. This time is about three or four years. His skin is just like his father. He smiles with my smile and hands me his little hands that are still tinier than mine, but not like before.

I take them without fear, and although I have to bend over to get to his height, I finally feel his small little arms around my neck. And I know he doesn't hate me, he never did, much as he should have. I hug him tightly, and I let my tears run. My baby is clinging stronger, and I feel that makes an effort to increase his height by standing on tiptoe, with this gesture prior to the most wonderful feeling in the entire universe: Benjamin grabbed my hair, caught in his fingers, and then kissed me on the chin. The kiss was short, and ticklish moist, sweet, gentle, kind, honest.

That gave me the courage to wrap my arms in his body and bring him closer to me: I don't want to lose him again. I kiss him on the forehead during a time that seemed too short, but I knew it would be impossible to satisfy my need for it. I left my child, just a few inches, but without releasing him, only by the desire to look at his face.

He smiled and I stroked his cheek. He is healthy. He is happy, he looks happy and in deep peace. He doesn't have malformations, he is not tiny anymore, he doesn't suffer, nor is cold nor pale: this time, is what I always dreamed for him.

"Mommy".

I tremble. I shudder, and my heart goes so fast like lightning: I cann't believe that this is happening. Finally something went right in my life, and the decision to go after him was successful: he was there, beside me, calling me mother. Smileing widely and I feel that my heart doesn't fit in my chest with emotion. I bit my lips, I laugh and cry slowly with joy, everything is almost perfect.

He also laughs to hear me, and with his small thumbs cleans my face of tears before kissing me on the nose and get out to run away from me. I worried, thinking that he would leave me there alone, but no: he stops and turns, looking at me with a big smile and showing his teeth. White pearl, beautiful and small.

He raises his right hand and pointing forward me, invites me to follow him. And I don't want to look at his little hand, I can't focus on what he's telling me: because my eyes are lost in his deep blue eyes. Those wonderful blue mean so much to me, torture me, but please me, broke my heart while recompose it. Then he runs back towards me, with his unstable baby steps and took my hand, making me run after him between his childish and joyous laughter.

And is alike him. He laughs like him. He looks like Cole.

I hug him when he stops, almost dying to feeling him away from me, and I didn't want to never be apart from him never again. I subject him from his back, putting his belly up to fill it with kisses, just for the pleasure of hearing him laugh: I don't want to stop listening to this music ever in my life or my death, however.

I feel there is someone watching us, and I stop tickling to stand. He clings to my right leg, and laughs, and my heart breaks out in joy when I met this beautiful young woman standing next to us.

"Mom".

I say this time, just with a tiny voice, totally incredulous: I had no idea that there could be so much happiness after so much pain. The arms of my mother curled up, her hands caressing my hair while soothes me. This is a dream, so perfect, so wonderful...except that, suddenly, I feel anguish in my heart to see her looking down, and I go up with Benjamin in my arms, carrying him in my hip, as if was used to charge him that way. As if life ever had separated us, as if I had raised him from birth. We both looked down, imitating my mother and I can see my sisters and my grandmother dressed in black gathered around a rectangle of earth: they are burying me.

They are crying, all of them. They don't stop. It breaks my heart to see so hurt because of me, and I can not stand to hear their cries of despair from every bit of land covering my coffin next to the one that says "Patricia Halliwell," which is in turn next to that of "Allen Halliwell." I look at Mom, asking please somehow give them peace and quiet. I asked when all that sadness would end. She smiled at me, and promised that soon, but that the pain would never go away, that they only will overcome someday.

I know I can believe her.

She takes my hand and I walk behind her, while Benjamin snuggles over and rests his face on my chest, holding my white shirt with his fists. He wasn't squeezing my finger, but he held me tightly, depending his mother, not wanting to leave her ever.

Mom stops and I do. We are some clouds further the previous one, and she says we are looking to the future. I don't know much how the whole communication system works up here, or wherever we are, but I know that sometimes there was no need to say anything, to explain everything.

I look down and it's two years after my death, and are all gathered in a large hall. Prue is graduating from college, and looks beautiful...she takes a diploma in her hands and poses for the yearbook photo. She went down the podium and runs to Andy, I always knew that these two were made for each other...I cann't be more pleased and relieved to know that her life is being shared with him. They kiss, and I see that my sister's eyes fills with tears trying to be restrained by him. She takes a string in her hands and kisses it, whispering something...and I know she's thinking of mom and me.

I feel my son kissed my cheek, a bit sad to see me crying and I smiled, kissing him back and look further into the flat below. Piper is in the public, holding hands with a handsome blond, very handsome indeed, and she looks so in love...She snuggles into his cheast, because seeing Prue tearing and can't help but do it herself. She closes her eyes and let the tears fall with a bitter grin, trying to be happy again to remember that they are celebrating a triumph, not crying a defeat.

Next to her, I can see Paige. She is beautiful, as ever, flooding and a lady. She's sober, she is healthy, she is safe. She takes in her hands the same string is wearing Prue, Piper and gramms, and putting more attention and bowing my head, I can see that it is a reliquary. I has a picture of mom and me,we both accompanied in this symbolic way, our beloved people. I chok back a sob, there is still someone to look at, and I find my grandmother.

She looks almost ten years older since the last time I saw her, and her face more serious and harder than before. Everything for me. I regret having done something so horrible, and have not been able to fight to stay there, but I don't regret being where I am now, after all, I know someday I'll see her around here. I smile to find her eyes met Prue, trying to cheer her up and take the hand of Paige to encourage her to clap, because my sister deserves the maximum recognition for the honors she earned during her studies, but it's impossible to hide a broken heart...especially when she wore a black scarf around her neck permanently, from mourning my death.

"I love you guys".

I managed to say, and my mother hosts me in her arms, receiving her grandson and carrying him for me, because I am unable to do anything but hug myself, thinking how much I had lost to take so many foolish decisions. But I repeated what was true: I don't regret anything, except the end we have reached.  
They look up, all of them, some more hidden than others, and now I understand that every time I did it was because my mother was talking to me: they felt that I told them I loved them.

Mom kissed me on the head, and cleared my face of tears, while Benjamin was moving anxious, trying down to the ground. He threw his hands, warning us that he wanted us to follow him, and ran as fast as his step allowed him and led us to another cloud.

And was then, when I saw three beautiful faces smiling widely to me: Gisselle, Rubi and Helena were there. Close to me, waving their hands. Mom waved back, like telling them "Wait a bit", and they understood, encouraging me to to follow Ben; we were gathering later, but at least, I knew they were fine and with me again.

Mom and I walked, and I bent to pick up my baby, who was pointing down. This cloud also shows two years after my death, shortly after Prue's graduation. My mother smiles at me, and I feel a strange foreboding that makes it impossible for me to dare to follow what his little finger indicates, and I don't until my little boy says something that makes me look down inmediately:

"Daddy".

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**Aw. Heartache.**

_Review(s) response(s)_:

**thetempest:** Hahaha! thank you for reviewing rollercoaster! Hope you liked this chapter! :D regards.

**ButterflyEyes24:** Of course he did, was Phoebe's birthday! (faking I'm surprised). Well, now you know what happened with little Pheebs D: Thank you for reviewing!


	7. Epilogue I

**SORRY for the delay. Ok, I would love to say that it's the error type 2 (who is a writer understand what I'm saying) of fanfiction fault, but it isn't. Let me explain you (I think I owe you a very good reason for all the time I had you waiting). I wanted to write the epilogue from Cole's point of view, so I took some scenes I needed to make it and whoa, 60 pages! I couldn't update 60 pages (would be a suicide!) so, I have been trying to make it shorter...but I couldn't shorten more than 20 pages so the epilogue is 40! That's why I decided to do two parts...You know, it's for me hard to do this in my own language, imagine how is translate 40 pages! I'm really sorry! I hope you like it.**

**Second apologize: school, that says it all.**

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**Epilogue, part I: In the eyes of Cole.**

That morning I woke up early, dressed in my best clothes and even perfuming a bit to get to my final destination; it was a special day, sad, cruel, but still important in my life: I coudln't let it go, or much less, not giving it the importance it deserved. My feet were advancing heavily, because my whole being hated that place, but during the day and at that time, it seemed peaceful and quiet, almost dreamy. Bizarre, but you aren't always able to control your feelings. There was not a soul besides mine, at least visible. My eyes enyojed the landscape, ingnoring the meaning of it and rejoiced in the bright green grass and flowers around that were (mostly) perfectly placed. When I found the physical terrain of my first stop, I stopped my steps. A knot in my throat, a accelerated hearbeat and a melancholy smile became my whole being, but I dared not complain.

"Hi...", I said feebly, and sat down on my knees besides her grave.

I observed the gravestone that I knew by heart: every inch. It was of hewn stone, marble to be exact, rectangular and was with others who shared her surname or had something to do with her.

_"Phoebe Marie Halliwell. Rest in peace beautiful sister, wonderful granddaughter. May your heart heal its wounds, blessed be. 02/11/1975 – 03/11/1993"._

I rubbed my face, furious. Eighteen...she had gone with just eighteen years old, turned just a few hours ago. She died at twelve o'clock, the same day of her birthday, had been her day of death.

"It's two years, Phoebe..." I said wearily, but loving, "and yet I can't believe what happened so fast. I know I say this every time I come to see you, and that you must be a little tired of hearing me speak without stopping".

I smiled to myself, regretting not being able to hold a conversation with her during the time we were together, during the chances I could do it. My life has changed a lot since she appeared, also since she left me here. I rubbed my face again, and now I can't help but mourn her memory, and I tell her: I always tell her what goes through my mind, trying thus compensate for the times I was silent when I shouldn't have.

"I miss you so much my love. I need you here, with me, holding my hand, stroking my face...", I sobbed, touching my face, looking for her sweet touch and warm skin on it, wich wasn't and would never be with me again, "I need your angelical face, your naughty girl's eyes, your soft lips responding to my cold gestures even when it hurt you. And you don't know how much I hate myself for it. I hate myself for not being able to be something better for you, for being an idiot and not have saved you from this. For not having given you everything you deserved, wich was certainly much more than I could ever give to a princess like you. It's amazing how much I tried to resist your charm, and couldn't do it. How a glance from you changed my universe and put my whole life upside down..."

_I finally received the drugs I was waiting that week, and now were adressing to Helena's room so we can use them later. I'm sure she'll be happy to get her more poison to end her life. I opened the door and stopped by it at finding someone I don't know infront of me. It's a girl, doesn't appear to be more than fifteen and sat as soon as she felt my presence in the room. She looked at me, both confused and indiferent, and I recall that the girls told me that a new roommate was arriving. It should be her._

_"Are you the new one?", I asked._

_She didn't reply. She just got off her bed and stood infront of me._

_"Are you?", I asked, looking quickly up and down._

_The effects of drugs, the apathy that they produce me, make me almost silent, coarse and also an observer. I was recording her whole structure at the bottom of my memory, as I did every time I had met some new one._

_"Uh, yeah ... I guess that I'm new but I don't know if I am 'the new one'", she said, somewhat uncomfortable and she had her reasons; it wasn't funny to have a complete stranger giving a step further as he talked to you, but I wanted to see clearer the color of her dark eyes._

_"So?", I asked, waiting her to share something interesting or asked me anything; newbies always had something to ask about how cheat the system and I also told them, of course, if they gave me something in exchange._

_"So...what?", she asked, rising an eyebrow without understanding or pretending to._

_"You didn't bring anything?," I insist. If she is here for drugs, she must to have some hidden and, the ones you could get outside were always better than the ones I got here. I don't care how much she wants for them, but I want them._

_"Oh, I understand", she said making a face of having found the secret of life, "You're confusing me with someone else. I have no idea what you mean and yes, I brought a few things: a backpack and a pair of sneakers, but I believe you're not my size"._

I can't believe she's serious, and my face of surprise shows it.

_"You didn't bring anything?", I repeat, and this time, isn't a question but a certainty._

_"No," she said, and I saw her put her hands on her hips, angry, "I did not bring anything, or anything else than what I already said, so, would you leave?"_

_I hate her attitude of believing that she had the right to talk to me in that tone, but even more, that's she is as useless as not having brought anything from out when clearly, here will be impossible to find something good. I hit the wall in frustration muttering a curse, but otherwise I felt like I am relieved to know that she's here to recover or, at least, never had an addiction problem, looks too young to beging to destroy herself without giving herself the space to change for the better._

_"Are you sure tha...," I tried to ask again, not giving up so easy and almost sure that I wasn't doing nothing but wasting time._

_"I did not bring anything!", shouted out of her mind and I notice that, although she is small, it's pretty easy to push her buttons._

_I was about to as again, but abstained. It was obvious that she didn't get what I was saying but still, something made me want to stay in her presence, curiosity mainly._

_"Why are you here?," I said._

_She looked puzzled. She frowned, she seems to be angry because I changed the subject, but I want to know. She looks sloppy . Her clothes are messy clothes, her hair is disheveled and the exaggerated black eyeliner ran down her cheeks. She has been crying, not long ago, her red and swollen eyes indicated me ._

_"I...well, I guess...the same reason you're here..." , she stammered, more puzzled than before._

_"No, you're not, otherwise you'd have brought something," I replied with a nasty temper . She, in fact, didn't have anything and all my good mood from the morning was gone._

_She crossed her arms, staring at me with certain hate and waiting for a good explanation. The girl wasn't so clever, or actually, she was inocent. I believed her that she wasn't here because of drugs, so, why then?_

_"I refer to drugs," I explained and she nodded,"Most newbies manage to bring some hidden ... the old ones that come back, too. You're not here for that, why are you here?" _

_ "My gram ... my family, thinks I'm an alcoholic and drug addict, and here I am ... until either I or this people get bored"._

_Listening to her talking like that was like watching a little eight-years-old girl caught red-handed in stealing a cookie. And I decided it was time to leave there, not wanting to make her feel worse on her first day of confinement, but something asked me to try to extend the conversation further, to see if it became a bit more enjoyable.  
_

_"Ah ... And are you one of those things?"_

_"No"._

_Her response was so sharp, that I saw that there was no where to keep talking, and thinking well, why would I stay and talk to her?, she was a child, a little spoiled girl that would leave soon and was there, basically, for being a brat. I nodded and left the room, deciding to completely forget about her. And seriously I tried, but I realized that with all the distraction, I had forgotten to leave the stuff I had brought for Helena. I would be back later, at the time they shower, that would help me to avoid meeting with the new girl again._

_I sat to read and wait the time passed while the young Caroline crossed the Alphs to get to Switzerland through the pages of my story. At realinzing time was going really slowly, and that the story of the book I was reading was making me irritated, I decided to inyect a bit and looked at my watch, calculed and knew that it was time to get back to the room 91 to leave the heroin; Helena would never forgive me if I didn't let her some as soon as I get it, less if was one of this quality. And I cared, because she was something like my little sister with who I had been shared a lot of moments in six years. I protected her, she protected me, but no one had the courage to quit drugs or make the other quit. It was a personal topic, and no one here used to mess with other's lives. _

_I stopped in front of the door of the room, and heard a not common sound from it, Was somebody crying? I approeached slowly, curious, but not very interested and opened the door. I saw the girl crying on her bed, in the bunkto of the right. And my heart broke, she reminded me my own daughter...I wonder who is my little Johana...she was going to turn nine whitin a month. I shook my head, trying to clear my head from her, and also from her mother...Beatriz...six years away from them, and yet, I'm not brave enough to get them back._

_I bit my lip, to approach or not to approach, that was the question. And I did. I followed my huntch and touched her shoulder, feeling her react quickly, like dinamite to fire._

_"What?," she shouted furiously, sitting on the bed._

_I remained quiet, my hand was still on her arm, and I just noticed -because then I was too focused on her crying than anything- that the young girl was with only a towel, that had fell when she sat. She was naked from her waist to up, and I pretended I didn't notice, I didn't looked down even: I didn't want to scare her._

_"I came looking for something," I said acting as natural as I could, releasing her to give her a chance to dress or at least, cover her body._

_"What...?," she asked almost inaudibly._

_"I got material. I brought to Helena," I said, opening her locker and taking a small bag that was Helena's, "Tell her I left it here, althought I suppose she will notice"._

_I removed something from my pocked and hide it on Helena's bag. I closed the door of the locker and got ready to leave, meeting the girl twice was tempting my fate, and I didn't want to make her believe that I was a pervert or something, childs molester._

_"What material did you bring?"_

_Her tremblous shaking voice called my attention and I turned slowly before starting at her, trying to discern her intentions._

_"Heroin," I replied, ready to go._

_My inner voice asked me to go soon, because she was starting to interest me and that wasn't right at all. I shouldn't let that my head kept telling me how beautiful she was, despite how emaciated she was and less that kept bothering me for not having taken the oportunity to look at her naked torso when I had the chance._

_"Moral, Cole!, Moral!," I shouted to myself in my head._

_"Would you...?," she tried to ask, but she shut in the middle of the sentence._

_And I, without thinking it twice, because I'm an idiot, completed her sentence when I had not and leave the room instead. That girl was wreaking havoc, though I haven't seen her more than half an hour in my whole life._

_"Give you?"_

_I saw her shaking a bit, as if a shiver had went through her skinny body. I raised an eyebrow and walked to her, and couldn't resist the temptation to clasp my forehead with hers, only to feel her soft skin and to be closer to her beautiful brown eyes. They were fantastic, but hurt to notice they were hurt and sad. And again, I realized it was better to leave. The effect of the drugs wasn't letting me think with clearity, and I felt the girl was tense: she was scared._

_"You said you weren't a drug addict," I said trying to take control again, giving a step back and away from her, feeling that dryness in my mouth that awalys came before euphoria._

_I think I moved too fast, or that she was too petrified, because as soon as I took off my forehead, she went down. I freaked out, thinking that maybe she had passed out and reacted quickly, taking her by her shoulders and pushing her up, back to her bed. I don't gave that so much attention, or that's what I tried to make her believe...it woulndn't be easy for her to have an elder stalking her._

_"I'm not," she replied gluping._

_"Wanna try?," asked not looking at her, thinking about how to give her a good leasson if she said yes, but I was expecting a no._

_The girl I had infront was too sweet and pure, regardless, and she had no idea how was the world of sickness she was trying to get in. I couldn't allow, not for all the tea in China, that she ended being part of this world. I don't know I cared so much, but I did._

_She didn't reply, actually, she was hesitating...I was afraid, she was about to nod, so I kept walking to leave, slowly, expectant, dying for hearing a "No", loud and clear._

_"Yes!"_

_Her cry __demoralized me. Listen to that, it was almost received a stab in the chest, yes? She had been confined there to be "recovered" and, without being a drug addict, said "yes?, Does not she think of the consequences?, Didn't she realized that saying yes would make her enter in problem that isn't easy to scape from?_

_I turned back. I was furious and walked to her staring at my shoes: I felt horrible guilty for having gave her the idea. I clasped my forehead with hers again: now I really wanted to make her chill. I wanted her to scared, to never again think about doing drugs. Knowing how treatments are here, I knew that within three months she'd be back at home, and I was keeping her away from drugs until then; it was now, my own personal goal._

_"You are a person that should not be here. You are not like us, and shall not be me the one who turns you into a monster"._

_I left her, and the poor little bird came down. I reacted quickly, but coldly and let my reflexes try to hold her to send her back to the bed but I failed the calculation. Unwittingly, again without thinking, I certainly felt something big, soft and gentle being held by my hand, and I didn't need to look to see that I had the misfortune to hold one of her breasts. I pushed her up quickly and turned around pretending that I did not care and left._

_I started a fast run to anywhere, feeling like I blushed, "Was I blushing?," A teenage girl was making me blush? I looked at my hand and refused. What had happened in there was horrible, and worse, I could feel a little hard between my legs, in front of my pants. It was true: she would be my downfall. My downfall as a person, anything, because I couldn't be as disgusting and immoral to react like that to a young woman who, wasn't that young to be my daughter, was at least ten years younger than me._

_"_I can't believe that...you had called my attention that...easy," I told her smiling sadly, "Well, actually I can because you did. I'm sorry for...making you feel you didn't worth, but, well, we have talked about that already," told her, referring that I had visited her before and spoken about that topic, "I didn't want to fall...to fall inlove, or to recognize I was. But I sware, even though you know it, that each kiss, hug, were always real. Sincer, honest...if I was cold, wasn't only because the durgs effects but also because I knew I was wrong but, when I looked at you, I forgot how old I was, I forgot how old you were and the only thing I wanted to do, was having you.

_I entered the girls' room, I needed to talk with Helena. I sat on her bed, feeling kind of disappointed at noticing that Phoebe, as my friend told me her name was, wasn't there._

_"And, why do you care?," I said to myself, closing my eyes._

_I didn't feel the door open. When I opened my eyes, I found myself face to face with the girl spinning in my head. She semeed to had showered a few ago, and now was wearing a pair of jeans that marking perfectly her legs and firm but, it was small, but still perfect. I was stupefied , not not realizing that in any other condition I would not be doing more than seeing something like child pornography, especially when I could not keep my eyes off her firm abdomen, slim waist, and ended up raising my gaze to her breasts. They were beautiful, both. Big too, and I looked at my hand again, recalling the time I had one of them there. My heart raced as I felt I was starting to get "excited" so to speak less. And I directed my gaze to her face, imagining what would be to achieve those little lips._

_I felt relieved when I noticed that she had put on her bra and blouse, and nearly hit a jump to the roof when I heard her scream, jump and hit the wall. Her eyes were wide openand staring at me not knowing how to react._

_"Wh...when...you got there?"_

_I didn't know what to say. I was a few seconds from blushing, and was still focused on not lift anything that didn't have to...I felt sick, really disgusting. Indifference: that was the key. I had to show no difference whether I didn't want her to feel that the old sick man visiting her room, had plans to go and rape her at any moment._

_ "Long enough to know you have a birthmark in..."_

_"Shut up"._

_She blushed and had her reason; I didn't want to explain her I hadn't seen so much, or that I had decided to stop looking when I noticed I was, but I understood that she had shame. She covered her body with her hands, thought she was dressed. That amused me, but I didn't laugh._

_"I think I know why they sent you here: exhibitionist" ._

_I hated myself for being so cruel, humillate her more than she was, but it was the only way to make her want me away from her...because if she kept looking at me with those eyes..._

_"What are you doing here?, Why you didn't knock, warn or. ..?, At least closed your eyes! ," yelled and approached like a whirlwind of rage, with the intention of slap me._

_I stopped her. In the moment. I pressed my fingers tightly around her small, fragile wrist and just let her go when I heard a moan, asking me to release her._

_"Don't you dare," I warned her, and she sobbed her wrist; I think I was too hard._

_"You're a beast," she told me almost crying, resented._

_The door opened and let Helena and Rubi cam in. The first one and I sat and started to talk about traffic and transactions, leaving the others alone. While my friend talked, and I to her, I could feel Phoebe's gaze in my neck, and I couldn't help but leave._

"I'm sorry about that," I smiled, blushing at remembering her body," Since that moment I couldn't stop thinking how would be to be with you...and you were driving me crazy. I don't think you understand, because you never saw in me an elder as I thought you did, as I never could see, though was aware you were, the girl you were. You were always a woman to me. The one I loved, even more than Beatriz, but don't tell her", I added, "I feel something for her it's true, but she will never be you".

_I was in the garden smoking some marijuana. I wanted something not that hard, that only helped me to relax a bit and made Phoebe's image disappear from my head. But it wasn't working. There was no way to erase that inocent face from my mind, and when I managed to, Beatriz's face appeared instead. We had meet when we were young, in college, and a few months later she got pregnant with our daughter. We were nineteen and no experience. I wanted to seal some good bussines, try to give them the best, but I made a mistake, or a lot of them, and ended up in troubles. I got in drugs and the stress of college, Beatriz's independence and all her mother's intromisions about me and our Johana, made me want to scape reality. And that's why I'm here, I can't resist reality._

_I felt the sound of a little rock rolling on the floor, distracting me from my sad memories; I liked when I was in that catharsis, because everything was deeper. Even the tears falling down my cheek felt much more hot and weat than other times._

_"How long you gonna stay there?" , I asked._

_Truth be told, I didn't know who was there, but I needed to ask. The little jump I felt, the way her breath cutted and her attempt to turn back to go, told me that was Phoebe. I took her arm. I wasn't thinking, I was feeling. I felt her paralize, and I felt sorry, but that didn't stop me to pull her down and sat her next to me._

_"I have no family," I explained, thinking that probably, she would be asking why I wasn't in the visitators room as the others, "I lost my wife, my daughter also". _

_"Why?," she asked raising her arm to take my cigarette._

_I didn't do nothing to stop her, I didn't want to fight. I didn't want to push her away. The question made me remind my daughter, the last time I saw her, my girl was three years old...she was in the "Why" phase. I felt rage. No. I had to stop her, to make her go, to make her leave this pleace because...because Phoebe reminded me to myself when I was younger: naïve and lost. I wasn't looking for a future like mine for her, for no one._

_"This," I told her looking at marijuana and turning on the cigarette that was between her soft hands, my bottle of beer to turn it off, "Get out of here, use what remains you of brain".._

_I saw her run away from me, rather frightened. And it hurt. I didn't understand, my heart squeezed between the memory of Beatrice, Johanna ... and now of Phoebe, what to do?, What the hell was happening to me?_

"I tried to stay away from you, but that was not possible...from one way or another, I always was at the same place you were," I told her, begging for having her sweet face infront of my to stroke her cheek, see her smiling at my touch, to my new self. To the new relationship we could have if we had the chance to be together now, when I'm different, when it worth it, when she wasn't a seventeen-years-old anymore but a twenty-one woman in a more aceptable relationship for this society that the one we had and had ended with her life.

_That day was a visitors day again, and I didn't see Phoebe in her room or near the bars like the last time. I supposed she went to meet with her family, and walked near just in case: only to confirm my doubts. And I saw her: she was walking, somewhat groogy and shivering. She seemed mad, she was furious and her hands wiped her tears repeatedly, trying to clear her vision. I saw her feel down and that surprised me. I was trying to decide between two options:_

_1) Running, hug her, ask her what was happening and fight against my own to avoid kiss her._

_2) Staying away, pretending I don't care._

_A bit of both was perfect._

___"Shouldn't you be in visits?," I asked, expresionless, almost mocking on her to avoid being so sweet._

___I hate that each kind thought or tender phrase in my head, always sounded so harsh when I utter them: I hated the aphaty I have been living with for so long. She stared disgusted, a lot. I decided to extend her my hand to help her standing, she looked so fragile..._

___"Take it, Or do you plan to stay there forever?" _

___I couldn't be kinder than that, as much as I was trying to. She clenched, rejected my hand and waiting me to leave, but I wasn't. If I was lucky, she would tell me what was happening with her. My arm there began to despair me, how stubborn she could be? I grabbed her arm and pulled her up in a quick and clean action._

_"Much better," I smiled victorious and decided it was better to keep my way to anywhere._

_I was getting to much involved and she didn't want nothing to do with me. There was no better signal from fate than that, besides that all laws said that whatever between us was totally wrong._

_"Cole!"_

_I frowned, was that her voice? I didn't stop, ketp walking: not get involved. Not get involved. Not get involved. I had to stay away, I couldn't be that fool to keep with the gameIhad in m head, that possible was mine and only mine: I doubt that she thinks about me as another thing but a creepy guy who talks with Helena. I continued my way, and hoped that she didn't follow me, growling to scare her._

_"What do you want now?"  
_

_"I need ... a little of ..." _

_Her voice was nervous. She was embarrased, but desperate at the same time. I wanted to ignore her, I had to, but I believed that it was better to guide her before leaving her alone with a problem like that. I stopped this time and frowned. Then I shook my head and kept walking, confused. She was behind me._

_"So you still want drugs?," I asked turning on a corner, knowing she would say yes, but hoping again for a no._

_"Yes," she whispered._

_"Ah," I said, __pretending I did not care, when in fact I was angry, enraged._

_I kept walking before saying something I would regret, and she kept following me too. We advanced, I walked the whole first floor trying to get her bored and leave, but she wasn't. I decided to go to the cafeteria. It was messy so I decided to help Carlotta a bit, one of the cleaners, who also used to give me more sauce in my spaghetti, and started ordering the chairs. Phoebe looked at me, estranged, but helped me in silence. I took my time, thinking in how much she would get tired, but she was stubborn, as a mule, so she stood there until the end._

_She was stressing me, making me tense. I decided to go to the terrarium, last floor, to see if that helped me to relax a bit and also check on the plants; I liked to spend time there, and hated to be surrounded by dead plants so I used to take care of them. Phoebe followed me, obviously, and watched me fertilize them, watering them and clean their leaves. And she was still here. I went down, walked again for the whole building, but she didn't stop following me! I had no idea what to do. I have been trying to ignore her the last two hours, but she was still there, waiting for me to give her something. Anything. We went to the adult's area and then to the men's: all the place was divided, so it was safer for the interns...although nobody respected the rules at all, that explains why this girl was in this area with no problem._

_I entered the bathroom, I wanted to wash my hands and face: my body have been asking me for drugs since a few minutes, and I was dizzy. She rested her back on the wall, I felt the noise she made. I'm going to get out of here quickly, but sneaky, so she won't hear me and will stay here like forever waiting for me._

_At opening the door, I took the idea back: leaving her alone, in the men's area wasn't a good idea. Somebody could hurt her, and if that would be my fault._

_"Hey!," she complained when saw me walking by._

_I turned back, and I couldn't help but think how stupid I was, and saw her arms crossed with a very ofended face. I wanted to laugh, she looks so sweet, but I pretended I hadn't idea that she had spent the afternoon with me._

_"What are you doing here?," I asked, walking more only to lead her to her room. I needed her to leave, I need drugs and can't do them with her by my side._

_"Waiting"._

_"I shall not give you anything", I interrumpted her and put a finger over her mouth, trying to scare her a litte, "I told you once, then now and I won't say it again". _

_I released her in a sharp push, involuntarily._

_"You said shall not be me the one who turns you into a monster", she reminded me and I nodded, she was finally saying something intelligent!, "but it's late, Helena started me last night," said proudly, showing me her arm, smiling._

_I didn't understand the fact of showing me a clean arm, but I guess that she was talking about a shot or something related. I smiled sinuously , I was more than furious at her attitude of being proud of something so stupid and senseless. I laughed under my breath, frustrated. I prefered to leave her there, or that would end with...I don't know how. I was mad, really, but more decompensated._

_"Hey! ," she complained running behind me, "What's your excuse now?"_

_"Listen kiddo," I told her clenching and I knew she hated that nickname, "Once it's a try...it is like learning to walk and then say you're ready to climb the Everest: things do not work that way. Wake up and stop this nonsense, brat, focus", I asked her, pulling her close to my body._

_It was being really difficult for me to move or coordinate well. I really needed to smoke, a shot, whatever. I crashed my nose with hers, and kept talking._

_"Forget about this, get out of here. Hold on two months doing nothing and leave the people like us: here there's no future, here is nothing but death, sorrow, pain and destruction. Stay away". _

_She stood there, staring like an idiot, freaking out at the touch of my fingers digging into her shoulders. She moved fast, took something from my jean, I didn't know what, but I didn't care in that moment. I released her and both turned back to leave. I touched my pockets, trying to get the marijuana I had there and noticed it wasn't there, that the girl had taken it. And now, my anger had no way back: first, she dared to rob me. Second, the so much appreciated dose of cannabis I needed and third, to try to get high when she's clearly not part of this world._

_No._

_She was wrong if she thought that things were that easy. I walked to her, dizzy and groogy, and covered her mouth with one hand to avoid her screaming or yelling histerically. I cornered her to the wall, taking her by her forearms._

_"Bad move," I told her._

_She looked terrified, her eyes were in panic. She trembled almost imperceptibly, and from my position, being taller than her, I could see a bit of a paper in her cleavage: there was the merchandise. I didn't hesitate to take it out of there, and feared to get aggressive if I did not smoke now, but was more afraid to get violent and hurt her. I felt her heart beating fast as I slid my hand along hersmooth torso. Her breasts strained, she closed her eyes. I went directly under her bra, entering in between her breasts to reach a place under the right one trying to get with my fingers what she had stolen, but my coordination was really bad and I was nervous: what could have taken me ten seconds, was taking much longer than what I desired. Finally I held it, and I tried to take my hand out the same way I had introduced it, trying to not touching her nipple through my shaking.  
_

_"Naïve," I sighed tired, showing her what I've got, wanting to make her think it twice before doing that kind of stupidities again,"Don't try me. I'm always one step further than you". _

_I dared not look at her, ashamed and too conscious of myself, and I left silent while trying to start smoking._

"Believe me, I felt like a pig, but I was desperate...," I explained her, ruffling my hair, blushing to remember these things, "I needed a stronger drug than you, to get cured of the addiction that your eyes caused me...I hate to sound corny but it's true".

_I was in my room reading an Edgar Allan Poe's book, "The Dupin trilogy," pretty interesting, the guy is admirable. The afternoon had been boring, there was not so much to do but the door of my room opened, what wasn't new at all, so I didn't pay attention._

_"Hi"._

_The voice was so familiar, also stuttering. I frowned, I knew it was her and left my book. She was smiling, it was like she couldn't stay quiet, staggering in her feet._

_"You don't give up easily, do you? ", I commented with pity, real pity, "I persuaded Helena to don't let you shot anymore, but I didn't think you would think to switch to cocaine".  
_

_She smiled and laughed hard, she seemed crazy, out of her mind, Why was she laughing?, Couldn't see how impossible was to recover from that?, Couldn't she see she was destroying her life?, Didn't she notice it was extremely painful to see her like that?_

_"Go away, I'm busy", I told her taking my book again, I didn't bear look at her staring so high._

_"It feels good" ._

_She didn't shut up, she was speaking really fast. She was jumping in her place, jogged, alterned her feet. It was about time she started shouting or something like that. It was lamentable._

_"It will feel good also when you end up decompensated and screaming asking for some mercy on you, while you're feeling about to die in the detox room," I replied not looking, because I didn't want to give her my corny advices. Plus, I knew that in that state, for her was the same a poem, a lecture, a love declaration or a death threat.  
_

_She left the room suddenly, as fast as she came. It surprised me, but I took the oportunity to forget about her: she was not my problem, not my bussines, plus, she put away all the advices people gave her in her the back pocket of her jeans. I closed my book and used a sheet of paper as marker. I needed to clear my mind, to go to read outside, so I made my way to the backyard where we had meet the first visit's Sunday._

_I sat on the floor to look at the sky and do nothing. I was so frustrated to think about anything and thinking always brought me my daughter's memory. No. I didn't want to think, I prefer playing to find figures in the clouds. I heard a tuneless voice that pretended that could sing, but actually, was screaming and murdering a melody in a stammer of words that seemed a new invented language. I herad some steps close to me, I saw her jumping and crashing her forehead to mine._

_"You again?," I asked, trying to get ride of her, she was scaring. She had a maniacal smile and big dilated eyes, like a fish._

_"I want..."_

_"No," I repeated and didn't look at her, taking my book trying to make her see that I wasn't there to talk with her._

_She shut, what surprised me. I thought that she finally had understood my point, but all fell down and almost had a heart attack when I heard her talking._

_"I'm willing to pay for it"._

_I felt her little hands on my cheeks and her lips against mine. She was passionate, more than I would have imagined from that weak creature with tender appareance. I didn't know how to react. Her skin was soft, her tongue tried to get into my mouth and she was succeeding. I couldn't move, I was in shock, trying to decided what to do, should I respond to her kiss, or act as a reponsible adult and decent man, and take her off?_

_"Stop," I said pushing her away._

_I saw her fall back toward the wall and hit the bars that protected them: and I realized she was naked. I had Phoebe completely naked in front of me, and she had kissed me. I hadn't the chance to think about it when another part of me already had, and was excited at the scene._

_"No," she said sharply and ran to jump to my arms._

She did it as fast dad I reacted as a reflexion and held her to not let her fall, and she took advantage of the situation to wrap her legs around my hips, what made me extremely nervous, expecting that she couldn't feel the hard thing she was going to collide with. She spreaded desperate kisses, almost with no sense for my neck and tried to take my shirt off with clumsy and accelerated moves.

_"If this is what you want"._

_I meant that if she behaved like a spoiled girl, that was the way I was treating her. I held her by her thighs, avoiding her to fall down and she was holding from my neck, as a koala. She ketp kissing me as if that was the last thing she would do in her life. I bent near the dress in the floor, with her in my arms, and as soon as I got a little of balance, I forced the dress on her._

_She was dislogded and stopped moving not understanding, giving me more chances to dress her and hang her over my shoulder, with her head behind mine and her legs over my chest._

_"Hey...," she stammered confused, shaking her legs in the air and hitting me with them on my chest as she hit my back with her fits that in fact, didn't hurt, because she was as uncoordinated that she couldn't apply the force needed._

_I led her through the wall with my heart infarcted, thinking about all what had happened and as soon as we got to her room, I threw her to her bed. Then, I ran to my room and locked myself into the bathroom, where I took all my clothes off. I looked my reflect in the mirror and noticed that I had a lot of lipstick everywhere, thanks to Phoebe. I shook my head, in negation and let the cold water ran trying to forget her, to get ride of my excitation and clean with soap and water the traces of the kisses from that lost and stupid girl._

The sound of squirrels playing and running around, made me smile. Phoebe liked squirrels, I heard that saying that once...maybe, she was talking to me through them, or maybe, they weren't more than animals making their lives without imagining that an dreamer would think that they meant a message from the other side.

"We never talked about that but...it was me who told on you, you know, to the principal," I confessed, for the first time in two years, "Please, don't be mad a tme, but...I thought..."

_I had been thinking for over two days on what had happened and I imagened Phoebe on Giovani's hands. He was my roommate, a pervert too. I thought on what would be of her if he found her looking for me in our room, and in those conditions...it wouldn't take so long to her ending up in his bed, and he wouldn't take care of her at all, no: he would use her. I couldn't let that happen, because he wasn't the only one: everyone would try, and neither women are reliable here. It had happened before, it's happening and will happen that here anyone has sex with anyone, and more than one ends up with their heart broken or abused._

_I took a sheet of paper, wrote something about Phoebe down, and sliced it under the principal's door. I was telling her how was Phoebe...she has to do something, to stop her._

_Today is my daughter's birthday. I have been crying the whole afternoon, high, trying to find a way to take my heart out and put an endpoint to this pain of haven't seen her for so long. I missed her, more than ever, and I couldn't conceive how I had been so many time there without fighting to get her back, and the answer was clear: I didn't because I'm a coward. I didn't try because Beatriz didn't love me anymore and she had told me so. I didn't try because she had forbidden to my daughter visiting me, and since my little one is missing, my heart is missing...and nothing had sense in the Universe. It's probably that Beatriz had married again and that Johanna was calling dad to another person...and thinking about that, just made me cry more and more, make me want to die in the deep whole of pain and chaos where I am._

_"Cole...," I heard Phoebe begging with her shaking voice, a few steps from me._

_She had her eyes red for crying, as her cheeks, and was somewhat wet. She looked emaciated , and I knew that was because she had her visits suspended: I had read the pamphlet this morning, thinking about her._

_"What's up?," I asked pretending I had no idea. Although I felt guilty causing her this pain, but in the other hand, I knew it was the only way to make her wake up._

_She walked dragging her legs and I let her spread my arms, I said nothing. She sat over me and I remembered that she was as light as a feather. She let her arms drop for my right side and hid her sweet face on my chest, embracing me from my neck looking for some protection: but I couldn't give it to her. I couldn't give her what she was looking for, because she reminded me so much to my daughter in that moment and I felt dirty, I felt repulsive at thinking about her romantically and then, comparing her to my baby. It was repulsive, I myself found me disgusting._

_Little Phoebe cried histerically, even had hiccup. I dindn't bear the pity she made me feel, and if my heart was dying before, it was dead now. I said nothing, neither touched her, thinking in so many memories about my daughter. I was thinking in all the mistakes I had made, and I felt so unworthy in compare of Beatriz's intelligence and all the options of job she had meanwhile I wasn't more than an average student; that the others pressure insisted that I had to be better than her...in being so stupid and macho, to feel under her shadow, and had accepted drug trafficking: that gave me more money, and even a better relationship with my teachers (in some cases). My worst mistake, was trying once, and had decided that that peaceful feeling had to be mine forever, without having the nerves to stop. They descovered me, I stole money to my wife, I forgot to pick up my daughter from kinder and spent three days on the streets trying to get more: and they locked me here. Now, Beatriz pays this place for me but she didn't come to see me...nor let my daughter do it._

_After a while, Phoebe had stopped crying, but rain hit stronger, even hurt. I only noticed that we both were wet when she pressed her hands on my arms. I had been thinking about my family the whole time. I was looking to the wall in front of me, lost in my memories, but Phoebe's disturbed voice woke me up to reality._

_"Give me heorin, please, I'm begging you"._

_"Don't you realize you're destroying yourself?", I asked her, but I wasn't in the mood to argue, "You are, how old?, fifteen? You have a family who loves you, a future ahead, and you...are throwing all straight to the trash"._

_"I have no one," she sobbed._

_I felt like punching her and crashing her face down the floor, but I didn't: I could tell she really believed what she was saying. And that was sad._

_____"You don't know what's to be alone", I told her harshly, "______you do not know what it is to lose everything. You have no idea what is, how it feels to lose your wife for being unable to recover from this shit, to lose your daughter...the person you love the most in the world ..." _

_I pursed and bit my lips, pressed my eyelids and clenched my hands, all for trying to avoid crying and hug her looking for some comfort. I needed love, affection, but I couldn't ask her for it: I was the cold bitter guy who told her the truth to the face._

_____"Behave yourself, get over it. Go home and end this nightmare before it's too late"_

_Said that, I stood up, letting her fell down because I didn't warn her. I don't know how hard she had hit, or where, but covertly I made sure that she hasn't hit her head and then walked away. She had seen my most fragile side and I h had done nothing about it._

___"_I feel so guilty for that. But nothing improved, everything got worse...I never imagined what you would be able to do...like...the folly of which I saved you from," I said with glassy eyes, painfully recalling my impressions and feelings of that episode.

_I was sitting in my room with a syringe of heroin in my right hand and a belt wrapped in my left arm. I had just injected me, when I felt the door opening._

_"It's Phoebe," said Helena, and I didn't think it twice when I was running behind her to the room, "Sex for drugs," she shouted trying to go as fast as I was, and I went faster._

_I had perfectly clear what she meant, because it was common at there: but I wasn't allowing it. It was probably that she was having troubles, or that the guy was molesting her, otherwise Helena wouldn't have come. I understood it was urgent so I went faster for the second time, crashing against the door of the room before opening it. I looked for Phoebe with my sight, I didn't know if she was there or not actually, but if Helena hadn't tell me that she wasn't here it was because she was. I found a girl with blue hair, friend of Rubi, and kept looking until I realized that she was the only one in the room and I knew it: the girl below wasn't Rubi, it was Phoebe._

_I felt that my world went down when I noticed that, it was too hard to think that that girl was selling herself for a some drugs. I was furious, more than ever in a long time. I took her by her waist and lifted her up as if she was a doll, sitting her over the bunkbed before dedicate an annoyed face to Charlote, who at realizing it was me, said nothing about it._

_"Go," I growled, giving an express order I wanted her to commit inmediately, supporting Phoebe to avoid her falling down._

_Helena was standing by the door and Charlotte passed by with her clothes in her hands. I gave my friend a look and she went to Phoebe's locker before standing next to us. Phoebe was hot, but not for the excitement: she needed drugs, her body was craving. I felt pity, because her need was more psychological than physical._

_"I hate to see you like this Pheebs", said Helena, prickling on her vein._

_Meanwhile the shot became to spread for her body, mine was already working. I'm hot, but in the opposite sense of Phoebe. I can't help but realize she's naked infront of me, and that I have her legs infront of my face. Her chest goes up and down, and her breasts move at the beat of her agitation._

_She's beautiful._

_I tell myself to stop, that I need to leave but I'm not me anymore: now is euphory who takes all the decisitions and only wants sex, but not any sex: her sex. I left the syringe feel from my hand to closer her legs and pull her closer to the edge of the bed, with the intention of tangling my hands in her hair to get her close and have those lips that have been driving crazy since the fiery kisses she spreaded through my body that afternoon in the backyard._

_I finally kissed her, and felt that soft mouth surprising, but joining me in a few seconds: she bit my lips sensually and I lose control. I push to get my tongue that's looking for hers. I feel Phoebe's knees hurting my chest and although I want to ignore them and keep kissing her, I decided to move; night is young. I put my hands between the matress and her thighs, and I take her from there; I guess I'm pressing too hard but I can't control my strength, and I don't care: I only want her._

_I changed my mouth of place, trying to get those breasts I have been avoidind in my attempt of being responsible and not the pig rapist I'm now, and I can't help but going straight to bit them desperately: I'm out of my mind. I sat her on the stairs they have to get up and down from the upper bed, and took advantage to suport her back better and get more skin, taking one hand from her waist to unbotton my jeans: pressure hurts a lot._

_At last, my pants sliced and are on the floor, and the irrepresible need of having her lips attacked again. Phoebe appeared to wake up from her grooginess and crossed her hands to my hips, and with her help, we managed to take off my underwear: we both are nake. I couldn't speak, I coudn't wait to get into her and although she tried to touch my hardness, I had plans to go faster so I didn't let her even a second to explore me. I took her from her thighs again, keeping her legs spreaded and got back to her breasts, meanwhile tired to find some space on the floor to sit. Phoebe had her fingers on my neck, trying to not fall, because my movements were so fast and imprecise. I changed my hands from their position again, taking her from her butt this time and I let her body fell, positioning her infront of me and releasing her to put a hand on my member and avoid it to get hurt, bent or smashed instead of inside of her._

_The sensation of being that tight was deliciously incredible. Phoebe was narrow, but excited and and wet, otherwise it wouldn't have been so easy to get in in just one move. I felt that she burried her nails on my back as hard that some blood dropped__, and bit my shoulder as soon as she felt me: it had to hurt her a lot, and though I felt guilty, the pleasure she was giving me wasn't exchangeable for anything. I felt her tears down over my skin, and I decided to don't wait for her to get used of me: going faster, she might find her own pleasure and stop suffering for mine. I kept biting sucking and squeezing her breast __while pushed my hips up hyperactively, trying to help her joining me and feeling out of this world. I had my eyes closed in my attempt of enjoy it more and forget that she was still crying, clining to my back. I couldn't help but groan aloud and going faster and faster, but I was paying attention to any sound from her mouth: if she asked me to stop, I would inmediately. But at the moment she wasn't, so there wasn't a real reason to stop._

_I felt disgusting doing that to a teenager, a girl a lot of years younger than me...but she felt like a woman, mostly when she became to move along and the little of moral that remained in me, left the country. In a few, Phoebe started to go faster until stopping when I felt a warmth sensation over my penis, and I knew she had come. She moaned incredible loudly, and it didn't take long, actually took nothing, that that made me come too: there was nothing better for one's ego to know that your partner had reached an orgasm because of you. I__ grabbed her breasts with uncontrolled force, needing to find something to squeeze while I gave her everything._

___We stayed quiet for a moment, sitting on the floor and without energy to get out of there: I could barely breath, and althought I was excited, I wasn't a fifteen-yeras-old boy to start again so fast. But Phoebe didn't think the same and had those eyes of lust that scared me a bit before being able to react at the same speed as hers. She started moving her hips in circles and I knew she was going to command the mission. I couldn't stop gasping at feeling those massages caused by her movements, but if something made me put my eyes in blank, was feeling her hand between me and her to suject me. She was caressing my penis soflty, feigning innocence and touching it as she had never done that before. One of her hands squeezed and made a painful pressure on my testicles, while the other supported my base so she could move without it getting out, making me get harder and harder. Soon afterwards, I was joining her, because I don't wanted to get behind and also because her job was really good. I was moaning from the bottom of my throat and I could hear her almost whispering, almost inaudible, as excited that I almost couldn't hear hear. I had my eyes closed, because I didn't dare to settle eyes with that girl after the barbarity I was doing to here; if she was my sister, or my daughter, because with a few more years of age she could be, I'd kill myself for this. And anyhow, thinking about that made me got more excited and faster, stronger and more savage than ever in my whole existence: just because of her._

_I felt that I couldn't resist more, that I would come soon and tried to make whatever that was possible to last more: it was too pleasent to get in and out, going to her bottom and that she didn't say a single word to stop me. It was like she would let me do anything, in my way, letting me feel everything the way I wanted. I groaned and ended feeling a warm wave from my back going through my pelvis and ending between Phoebe and me, making her moan and bent her back to get me better and end with me, at the same time._

_She said my name in a moan and I resisted to say hers: it was too pure to pronounce._

_Later, I got to breath again. I had my back supported on the coat and my eyes closed, still inside of Phoebe: we had reached that moment when the drugs effect ended and made our energy leave our bodies, and now, everything was a weird dream that came and left, mixing with reality. It had been our first time together, the last also: that night was a mistake, and something like this hadn't to happen again._

_"I thought you weren't going to be quiet", said Gisselle, eating chips on her bed without any of the two of us realized that they had arrived. Rubi also was there, talking to Helena._

_I opened my eyes and moved a bit: I wanted more. I was tired, a lot, but I wanted more. I had borken all the rules of the world, one more time, in that moment, wouldn't make any kind of difference._

_"These kids aren't satisfied with two rounds", said Rubi, looking at Helena with a complicit smile._

_Helena stood up and rummaged through her stuff, while Rubi tended us a bottle of beer._

_____"We want to see more!," cheered Gisselle, with her typical innocent voice, while Helena put something into our mouths and Rubi made us swallow with the help of the alcohol._.

_In a few minutes, we started to feel how our bodies were filling with energy again and we got aroused withing a second, more excited than tired: we were ready to stay together all night long._

I laughed lowly, in a mixture between nervousness and the guilt I still feel, and happy and excited for had having her. I had went to heaven, only to crash against the floor of hell when she left me.

"Oh my God, I think about that and I blush. I can't believe the way I took you...I'm sorry, but I don't regre it...it was the best night of my life. I hope you undestand why I acted how I acted the day after..."

_I was feeling a sligh back ache and my butt hurt, the floor of wherever I was sitting on was hard and cold and besides, my legs were numbed. I moved a bit, trying to find out where I was and I noticed that someone was sitting over me. Suddenly, I remembered all what had happened and for the calid warm sensation I was feeling on my crotch, I knew that I was inside of Phoebe: I freaked out. The only thing I thought about was on getting out of here, so I untangled my hands from hers and put them on the ground. I pushed forward and stood up, not realizing that doing so would make her fell down. I horrified when I saw her face down, she had fallen on Doggy Style and had some dried blood on her vagina and my heart broke at the moment: I deserved to die. I'm the worstperson in existence. I put my pants on and used my shirt to put all my stuff there before running away slamming the doolr. I felt disgusting, a vulgar rapist. I had..., What had I done with that girl?, How many times we did it?, How many things we did? I closed my eyes frustrated at remembering how I had touched her, where I had touched her and how she had touched me. No, no, I can't believe that I had done something like that, so...so...__wrong._

_I entered my room and took a cold shower, but that didn't take my thoughts away. Phoebe was in me, her body was still in my memory as her smell, her skin, her fire, her moans..._

_____"Why so serious,?" asked me Giovani when saw me leaving the bathroom and searching some stuff in my drugs box._

_____I didn't reply, only took the frist thing I found to stay doped a few hours to avoid thinking about her and what had happened between us. I noticed I had almost no stock so took my money and went to the discharge zone, meeting Helena there._

_____"Hey Cole," she said when she saw me walking and I pretended I was fine._

_____"Hey"._

_____"You broke her heart, bad person," she said and I felt like dying, "I understand your apahty, but seriously, poor girl, you used her as inflatable doll and then left her alone"._

_____"That's not true," I deffended myself, because I had my reasons...but if I think it twice, things seemed that way._

_____"Cole, my friend, if you like her so much why don't you accept it?"_

_____"I don't like her"._

_____I had never said anything more false than that._

_"Yeah, sure. Listen, you have been six years alone and this girl appears and you forget about everything and everyone. Cole, you like Phoebe: deal with it"._

_"That's more than wrong," I recognized sighing, rubbing my face in the middle of my brain death._

_"And she likes you," she continued, ignoring what I had said before._

_"Something like last night can't happen again Helena, do you understand? I'm going to do everything possible to avoid it,"I said almost shouthing, furious with myself and my lack of control, how could I?_

_"I undestand," she said, with a psychologist voice, "but you tried to do it before, and both ended up having more sex than the whole center in a year. It will happen again if you keep seeing her," she explained me naturally, and I hated her, because she was right._

_"Then, I'm not going to see her," I said with a little spoiled boy voice, unconscious, of course._

_"Love always calls, Cole...always," she said turning back to leave, but she recalled something, "oh, here," she said extending me a box._

_"What's this?," I asked her raising an eyebrow, hoping that wasn't what I thought it was._

_"Condomns, I guess you know how to make them work," said ironically, "I bought some for you"._

_"I told you it won't happen again," I grumbled._

_"Cole," she said taking my arm, "It's better for you to be ready, what if happens again?, I know you're a healthy guy and she's only a girl, but will you take the risk of get her pregnant?"_

_I froze at that. My whole being stopped working and if I wasn't shaking, was because I was shocked._

_"You hadn't thought about that?," she asked me with a face of pity, "Cole, she is seventeen. She hasn't finished highshool, she's locked here, You think she will be able to handle all the responsabilities a baby means?, Will you ruin her adolescence?, You know what is to be a father, and hey, you're my friend and I love you and I'm learning to love her too: don't do something stupid that you'll regret. She's still a child, Cole, what are you going to tell her family? If you don't want to see her again, you'll have to go or lock yourself in your room; but if you want this to work out and make her part of your life, you must to be careful and act as the adult you are," she warned me, while I listened to her hipnotized, "Protect yourself, protect her," she said passing me the box._

_"Ask her to keep them, if she is going to be that easy, she is going to need these things handy," I said mad at everyone, leaving the backyard in my search of a deep hole to jump in._

_Will you take the risk of get her pregnant?_

_I'm a stupid. I didn't think about that before and now was too late. If Phoebe...if she was expecting my child, would be the end of her life and all because of me. I couldn't bear something like that...but I wouldn't leave her alone, no, never...becase I wouldn't take the risk of losing another child. Not again, but...what about her?, What if Phoebe didn't want to have it? Helena was right, she was only a girl and...her family? Everything was a mess. I'm screwed._

_"No, she is not," I said to myself, "Nothing had happened and nothing will happen. One chance, free of mistakes, and next time won't exist and the world won't stop spinning," I said trying to convince myself, while my head didn't stop thinking about the idea, that in one hand terrified me, but in the other, filled me with hope._

_Three weeks later, I had to go to the girls' room. I hadn't visited it since that day, and I used to hang out with Helena outside, because I was afraid of meeting Phoebe. As soon as I put a foot inside, I saw her pale face petrifiying: and I got scared, Was she...? I shook my head mentally: she couldn't be._

_"There isn't?", asked Helena, pleased, reading in her face what I couldn't read._

_"No," she replied sharply, almost imperceptibly._

_"No," repeated Rubi._

_I could breath again. I was a little sad, it's true, because I had made the mistake of imagining a baby to fight for. One I wouldn't lose, and would have the opportunity to take care of, see it grow up and raise with the woman I truly love...not like my another family. My another family, how repulsive was thinking like that! but it was true: I had never felt, experimented real love before Phoebe. Beatriz had been a girl, more important than the others, yes, and the mother of my daughter also, but wasn't the woman of my life. _

_I left the room, I couldn't look at her eyes or tell her something because, What could I say?, What should I say?, That I was hurt because we weren't going to be three, but at the same time happy because I hadn't ruined her life? No, I couldn't tell her something like that._

I wiped my tears, now that I remembered how stupid I had been at not making sure she wasn't pregnant. I should have noticed her glowing face, her swollen body, changes in her personality and mood but I didn't see them. I didn't until it was too late.

"And at the end, you were," I sobbed, thinking in how many times I had the pleasure of touching her belly, "I'm so sorry...I should had noticed if I had...maybe, everything would have ended different...for all of us".

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**I don't know when but this year -lol- I'll post the second part of the epilogue and last chapter of this alternate ending :'( I thought it was a good idea doing this, you know, to see what he was thinking all the time and how different the interpretation of Phoebe was from his reality, and vice versa.**

_Review(s) response(s)_ :

**Ashly-Ghfan: **Really? That menas a lot for me, seriously. Thank you for reviewing, I hope you like this chapter and the next one!

**thetempest: **I know I made you wait a lot! and I'm sorry, but here is what was promised!


	8. Epilogue II

**The day I thought that would never arrive, arrived: the end of this sequel. Ok, I'll stop talking, hope you like it.**

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**Epilogue, part II: In the eyes of Cole.**

I have been crying a half of hour with no stop, thinking about her, about Ben...our friends and the tragic way that everything had ended, How did we get to this?, It wasn't hard to realize now but...before, we would never ever had imagined that things would tourn out that way, How? All seemed so complicated and rotten...so distressing that never gave us time to look around and realize what was happening.

"I'm sorry about that...," I told her, wiping my face of tears.

_Today, are three monts since Phoebe came here and she should be leaving between today and tomorrow, but after I told on her and her addictio (that this time was real), her treatment extended. What worries me, is that there are rumours of a riot and I don't want her to stay here in that case._

_It was past midnight, but the thought of missing her, dying if anything get to happen to her, made me wish to meet with her._

_"Hi," celebrated Gisselle when she saw me._

_I was high: I had never done anything with Phoebe if one of us weren't. I didn't say a word, walked by and uncovered the third Halliwell. I unziped my jeans, pulled her shirt up and took her underwear off, leaving it over her bed. I pulled mine down, and lifted Phoebe in my arms._

_"Move," I ordered Helena, making her leave her bed and stop doing the crossword with Gisselle to leave it to us, while Rubi was getting ready for watching._

_I made Phoebe lie with her back above the matress and arms behind her head: that would allow her to sleep as I had sex with her. I was really excited, and couldn't resist touching myself at that image infront my eyes._

_I introduced one of my fingers to check her and moaned. It was a really good sensation. I groaned again and began to go faster before introducing my third finger, but I didn't want to come by my own: I wanted Phoebe._

_"Enough," I said._

_I supported her feet below my shoulders and subjected her hips with my hands to get her closer to the edge of the bed. I brought her knees to her chest before trying to push myself but I wasn't succeeding. I managed to put my tip on a hole, but that wasn't the traditional. I tried to move down, but my coordination was dead and Phoebe alerted believing that I wanted to get in there._

_"No," she said in a serious tone of voice, strong, aloud. I moved immediately, making her see that I had no intentions of doing that. I respected her, I was cold and distant, but I respected her._

_"Let me help," said Rubi anxious to see us in action and took my member to address it to Phoebe's vagina, "I don't have all day," she added pushing my hip forward, but I didn't want to please her so I entered really, really slow._

_I hated when others gave me orders._

_I could barely keep my rhythm calmed because I had too much energy for going so slowly so I lost my patience and my wishes of frustrating Ruby failed, and I went faster. I was fast, hard, and as deep as I could go: I used to do that every time when I was that high, because my little empathy made me forget that I was hurting Phoebe, even, the sense of the world pain didn't exist for me. It made no sense, that was the reason of why I spent all my days like that: because I didn't want to feel pain anymore._

_I pushed further trying and I saw her fits clenching. Her back arched and she closed her eyes as clenched her jaws, in pain._

_"Go back to sleep," I asked her, "unless you want to participate and change to another position"._

_She didn't say a word and tried to relax. We had been having that kind of sex from the day I found out that she wasn't pregnant._

After walking around the center just because, I saw two figures against the wall. I sighed, thinking about how obvious was that everyone did what the wanted in here and the principal didn't know yet. I kept walking, it wasn't a big deal for me passing next to those touching: I only needed to reach the stairs, that was all. As I approached, I could recognize Giovani, and wasn't surprised at all, but when I looked again, I saw Phoebe: and my blood boiled from one second to another.

I saw her closing her legs and I heard him saying:

"You pretend I believe you don't want more?"

I noticed that one if his hands was moving, and that was underneath Phoebe's skirt.

"Go," she moaned, arching a bit.

I clenched my fits, blinded by jealousy and not thinking it twice, I punched Giovani on his nose and took his wrist to take it off Phoebe. I kept hitting him, not thinking about anything else than that his fingers were wet because of her, MY Phoebe. With the woman I loved. I hated him more than ever in my life, and my anger grew when I recognized to myself that I loved her. Both were sick people for messing with a girl ten years younger than us. But she was mine.

As soon as he could, he stood and run away as I crashed Phoebe against the wall softly. I lifted her shirt and began to kiss her, to bit her and unzipped my pants: I knew that she was ready. I lifted her skirt and tangled her legs on my hips, then I supported her back on the wall as began to thrust: I was telling her, that way, that she was mine and the only one who had rights of touching her it was me.

I was the only one who had rights to have her body, and I was disposed to pay all the pains of hell.

_"I'll go slower," I assured gasping, and I really tried but I couldn't, so I changed my strategy._

_I caressed her clit trying to stimulate her a bit: the only problem was that that, excited me even more. I was about to come and my hands started to move between her legs, frenetically as the ardent feeling on my underbelly. I made her come three times, and Ruby made a groan at the same time than us._

_I sighed, supported my forehead against the top bed when I noticed that I hadn't used a condemned condom, and I knew it was better to leave before making the possibilities grow. I pushed once more and left Phoebe's legs. I dressed up, lay her on her bed again and put my pants on before tuck her up and leave the room._

_The next morning, I was more conscious of my life and recalled that I had seen something different on her the night before that I didn't pay attention to. But today, I had to check on my theory. I went to Phoebe's room and I didn't see her there, so I supposed that she was at the bathroom._

_There was only one shower working and Phoebe's clothes was close, so I knew it was her. I opened the door. I wrapped her waist and made her turn to me. She kept shampooing and I dedicated my time to work. I touched her nipples, her back, her belly several times. I pulled her closer and checked her vagina, touching it softly and finding, effectively, what I thought I had seen before._

_I washed my hands and left with my heart broken: Phoebe was pregnant. All her body was telling us that a baby of hers and mine, was growing inside of her ready to see the light of the day in a little time. It was determined: if Phoebe couldn't do drugs before, now she couldn't even think about them. I had to protect our son, and I preferred not telling her because I knew she would freak out. It had to be me who had to handle the situation now, because nothing assured me that it was possible for that child to survive...I had to be honest and to know that she had at least two or three months, and with all what she used to consume, the chances that our baby had to live were almost null._

_But I wasn't giving up._

_When she got into the room, she sat next to me and I gave her a shot of placebo with a little of whatever to fool her: but she wasn't stupid, and noticed it immediately. Not the change itself, but a change._

_I kept her like that for two months, pendent of not giving her anything and if I gave her, it was only a trick. I tried to distract her with sex or some little jobs she could do to earn some money. She didn't ask why I was doing all that because it was our deal and, for me, it was better to handle it all alone, to suffer alone than making her cry too. I wouldn't bear that._

"I was happy, I won't lie," I told her playing with a little flower growing on the grass near, those I had planted myself, "I was incredible happy at imagining a life with you, a family with you and...I was scared honey, I didn't know how to react because I was terrified and I regret it, I do, if I had been braver, smarter, more mature and least...me, you'd be here with me today, celebrating your twentieth birthday with your son in your arms.

I felt a knot, a breathtaking pain through my heart at that perfect scene: the most perfect and amazing of all, but it wasn't anything but a dream, part of my imagination, an utopia that would never happen and my heart would always dream with.

Although it knew that it was impossible.

_It was almost four in the morning when Phoebe appeared in my room whisperin my name. I knew that something like this would happen between yesterday, today or tomorrow, it was the las day of her period or something like that, because although she was pregnant, she was still bleeding and that made me freak out at the thought of one of those days taking my son's life away._

_But they didn't: every time that she came here, I confirmed that our baby was still with us._

_"Cole," she whispered, and I covered her mouth brutally._

_"I heard you," I told her standing, "I don't have enough for two," I lied and although I knew that she knew it, I insisted, "I'm sorry, there's just for me"._

_I sat, shot a and stood to check that everything was going well. I lay her on the bed softly; since that day I treated her carefully, more than what was needed, worried about her life and our little one's. Both were in a hard position, too risky to accept it. I lifted her shirt and caressed her hips, stopping by her belly, at our son. I kissed her, trying to feel a kick, a move, anything but I had never felt them and least now._

_I don't know if she had felt them before, but I know that she learned about it a few days ago, not more than two weeks. I don't know when, we never talked about that._

_I'm scared about her reaction. She doesn't tell me if she's afraid, angry, if she doesn't want to have it. She says nothing and I don't want to ask her becuase I don't want to push her, I feel out of place, with no rights, I onlye feel that I'm the only one who has to protect her: because I ruined her life. I tried to not think about that and less about a world of Phoebe hating me and wishing had never met me, so I ketp in what I was. I was stil sober because I never got to the euphoria until checking that our son was still there, Why? Why...because I was too afraid of falling inlove with her, because doing it with no drugs in the way, would be making love._

_I lifted her pajama, spread her legs and my spirit fell. I touched, locked, checked, once, twice, a million times: but there was nothing. The violet color, the signals, they were gone. My child was gone._

_My child was dead. _

_I had never felt a deepest pain, my heart had never stopped beating like this before, and I had never felt more devasted and empty in my whole life: never as cold and bitter, so closed to everything, so artificial. I asked her with a gesture if our baby was still there and she took my hand and put it overher belly, telling me that he was._

_I closed my eyes, I didn't want to look at her. There were no doubts, it was dead. I decided that the best for Phoebe was giving birth, or she would die too._

_"Heroin?," I asked her._

_I didn't let her reply and gave her a mixture of things that I had ready when the day arrived, though I had all my hopes in not having to use it. I wanted to forget about everythiing, about and make her do it too, to help her to escape all this pain. We took our clothes off and I let her ride me, but I didn't touc her, I never looked at her: it hut me so much to know that she was expecting a child that would never had the chance to see the day's light, and that all my hopes and dreams, my stupid utopia of our life together, had died with it._

_I took control and went faster, I wanted her to hurt me with her nails: I wanted her to make me pay. And she, she wanted me tu punish her with the pain that my thrusts made her feel. I wanted to cry but no: I had to be the man, I had to protect her, I had to stay strong. _

_Then, she took her clothes and left. She didn't say a world, neither I. I didn't feel strong enough to face her tears and I was scared because I didn't know if to her, it was a good thing. But I knew that it wasn't, because I knew her: she considered herself a mother since the moment she learned that she was pregnant and now, she wasn't one anymore. She would never be one, I didn't know if she was able to handle that sad truth. _

_Later, almost two hours that I spent crying with my eyes cosed, Giovani appeared to tell us that he wanted us in the backyard: we were hostages; Phoebe and I never noticed, lost in our sorrow, but we had been under their will a lot of days. I did what he asked me, because I knew that the girls had to go too and I had to be there to take care of them._

_I was walking when I heard a scream that shattered my whole being, and not thinking it twice, I ran as fast as I could to find Phoebe lying on the floor, closing her eyes and holding her belly with her legs covered with blood. I took her in my arms and ran desperately to the nursery, as Ruby, Gisselle and Helena. Giovani was surprised so he didn't say anything but sent one of his gorillas after us: but we didn't let him come in. He stood out, alone._

_This is one of the most anguishing moments of my life. I just lay Phoebe over the bed and one of the nurses is checking on her, but I already know what she is going to say: abortion._

_"I need you to leave us alone," said the woman._

_I stared at her, and didn't get up. The others didn't move neither and she kept doing her job, not asking us again. I waited terrified, patienly to see Phoebe's eyes opening again. I took her hands in mine, unable to do another thing._

_I was scared, of all. I felt guilty, a lot. I was destroyed, completely._

_I was praying. Praying after so many, many years, I had come back to God: I was asking him to protect her, telling him that despite we had betrayed one another, he hadn't to leave her too. I begged for our child, for a minimal hope, a chance, the last one maybe...I asked him for their lives, because know, I dared to recognize to him that I loved her: I loved Phoebe more than myself, more than anyone else. I wanted her alive, healthy, I wanted her happy: with or without me, and that was all what I aske for: Phoebe's happiness, the life she deserved and, although it sounded cruel, that she felt disavowal for me and our baby, so she would move on with her life and don't carry the biggest pain that a woman could have, as the death of a child was. _

_The woman looked at us, shook her head, walked. The girls were in silence, all in their own minds._

_"I don't know if you knew that your rommate is pregnant or...that she was," said after a while._

_I didn't reply. I didn't move a single muscle, so I don't know what was the other's reaction and if they said somehting, I didn't hear. The lady kept talking, I didn't listen, because there was nothing that she could say that new or would heal my heart: because I knew that this, was only the beggining of the end, of one so uncertain for me and for everyone._

_I waited. I needed make sure that Phoebe was fine, that she was surviving to this: I needed to see her, because I didn't know when would be the last time that I could do it and every moment seemed the last goodbye not being it in fact and, then, I wondered if we would had to say goodbye for real or if we would be like this forever: afraid, but together.._

_And after what seemed ages, centuries, Phoebe opened her eyes. _

_I didn't release her hand, I didn't stop stroking it, but I hadn't the nerves to look at her because I didn't want to see death on them, I didn't want to see the pain trapped in her orbs, one I had avoided all the time: I never looked at her eyes, afraid of seeing her broken heart, and more than that, to see how much she loved me and recognize that I would die for her._

_More than once._

_"I thought you woulnd't wake up ever again", cried Gisselle._

_"You gave us a scare," complained Rubi idly._

_I blinked, glancing, and she looked at me. I supported my chin over the union of our hands and I saw the woman approach._

_"I have bad news for you"._

_"How long have I been here?", murmured irritated, looking at Helena._

_"Nearly two hours," said Helena._

_"And your baby has been dead for four days", added Giselle._

_I was about to correct her and ask her to look at me too, it was mine also, but it didn't worth. I shut my eyes and felt tears rolling down my face. I couldn't help but stay, stay and see how much she was suffering. Now was real. It was my fyalt I should have protected her better...and our baby, kept her away from the beggining if I...if she had never tried a single shot...our baby would have never existed because it was her stubborness what made me get closer to get._

_But I don't regret having met her, loving her, but haven't helped her to stay away from me._

_From this._

_"Why didn't you tell us that you were pregnant?", asked the woman._

_"When can I go?", she asked, ignoring her again with her voice broken and her gaze lost in the space._

_"You still have to expel the dead fetus"._

_Phoebe petrified. She stared at me and I couldn't look at her. The woman explained things that Phoebe wasn't paying attention at, but I was: I wanted to know what was goign to happen in case that any abnormality got to happen. She offered her anesthesia but she didn't want it, and I didn't make her. During the wait I did everything that was possible to help her to feel less bad, I caressed her back, I massaged her from her tighs to her neck, I tried to warm her. The other girls helped too and I could feel the piercing eyes of Helena, feeling sorry for us. Phoebe was miserable, screamed, cried, sat and groaned in pain, and I couldn't do anything to stop it._

_The woman had recommended her to stand and walk, that way she would dilate faster. But she refused, again, and again, I didn't force her. After ten hours when my heart ripped and bleed with no stop, she held my hand and closed her eyes, and I knew that the moment had arrived. They asked her to push, but she didn't want to._

_I didn't want her to do it neither._

_"Phoebe, you have to at some point," said Helena with a sad voice._

_I made her a gesture to ask her to leave us alone, she was my responsability. I released her hand and sat behind, leaning her over and taking her both hands to make her feel safer. I sighed, I pursed my lips to not let a sob out and leaned my heaed over her shoulder. I was devasted. She felt like pushing again, I knew it because she tensed, but she didn't push and the woman tried to approach, but Phoebe gave an agressive kick to the air, and dedicated her a killer look._

_"Breath," I whispered in her ear when I felt a spasm from her, "Squeeze my hand, and push..."_

_She did what I asked, but she didn't complain. She just moved a little forward, and made the best she could. I hated watching her like that, suffering, tired, but mostly, I hated the fact that after all this effort, it wouldn't worth. We would end up empty, with nothing...alone._

_"I see the head", anounced the woman._

_Phoebe hid her face on my chest and a cry from her mouth made me chill: it was another contraction. She didn't want to push, I knew it, but she had to...I couldn't face losing her too. I caressed her hands, trying to give her some love and comprenhension, then, I whispered._

_"Push"._

_I felt her nodding and I hugged her tigher, encouraging her to push for the second time. In this ocassion, she took more time than before and I saw her pressing her eyelids, pursing her lips and puffing her cheeks, while almost sat on the bed before letting lying over me again, exhausted._

_Her breath was uneasy as I caressed her hands, back, belly. Another contraction came, but she pretended that it didn't. I squeezed her hand, encouraging her to push again._

_"No," she begged me with almost no voice, "Plea..."_

_"Do it," I asked interrupting her with all the softness and sweetness that I could gave her._

_It wasn't easy for me neither, but I had to be strong, lead her, help her. The steps from the woman approached and for the grimace that Phoebe did, I knew that she was about to yell at her or try to kick her again. It wasn't that I cared about her, but I did care about Phoebe and if anything happened to her, the only one able to save her life would be the woman._

_"No," I asked her, for the same reasons.  
_

_She pursed her lips and made a face of anger. Then, tried to squeeze my hand again but it was impossible to get closer. She pushed for the third time, for long time, more than the first two. She bit my shirt, her teeth squeaked and I was concerned for her jaws. _

_She was screaming, crying, yelling with no control. Her eyes were filled with tears and when her shouts broke in the bottom of her sore throat, the woman spoke:_

_"It's a boy"._

_My inner self smiled. A boy...a son. The little guy I'd teach so many things, who would be the little spoiled mommy's boy, also of her aunts and great grandmother...beloved and adored by her sister. A son of me and Phoebe, that we would never get to meet. I wonder, What would he has liked?, Sports?, Table games?, What if he wanted to dance ballet?, Or to be a cop?, Musician?, Ingenieer?...Would he has been tempered? Would he has liked helping people?, Loved learning new languages? Would he has hated going to school? And what about her birthday's present, would he has chosed a bike or a gameboy?_

_I will never get to know that._

_Never._

_My thoughts dispelled when I felt Phoebe squeezing my hand and hit a jump, opening her eyes frightened when a pair of scissors separated her from our baby. She seemed shocked, as if was about to faint or get up and destroy the whole room. The woman took our child, I stayed with Phoebe until she finished the delivery. She cried with no stop, I had her in my arms, taking her hands to give her strength, one that even I had. I held her stronger, because even I couldn't stop crying hysterical and put my face on her shoulder, as I rocked us both, back and forth. I held our hands over her chest, and we remained like that, as if there was nothing else in the world that this unbearable pain. _

_"She should say goodbye", dviced us getting back inside, holding my little dead creature in her arms._

_I know that that comment increased Phoebe's hate and, in fact, mine too._

_She stretched her arms, separating our hands and receiveing the tiny size of our son in them. I wanted to hold him, but I wasn't taking that moment from her...I could wait. He was so small as I had never seen a human being, and I wrapped Phoebe with my arms again, to hold our baby boy too. He was beautiful and perfect ...and he was ill. I knew it was possible, but I never imagined it in that way and I couldn't bear to see it, but she looked calm ... she had always known that he wasn't healthy. However, I tried to be strong and continued watching ... they were so alike, he had her innocence, her carisma, the shape of her face. I didn't dare move, even though my legs were heavy and my arms tired, and she didn't neither... she might had her legs cramped, stiff, but kept them open._

_We remained in silence, the three together, the three mourning. There was only silence, and was the best...because if the miracle of hearing a single weak sound from our baby that would give us hope happened, I wanted to hear it._

_But we never heard anything._

"I promise that I had never felt such a pain," I told her not wiping my tears; it was useless, because they kept appearing with no stop. It happened last year at her first anniversary, it happens today when it's her second and it will happen again, every year, until the day I can meet her again, "I really wanted to make a family with you, it doesn't matter how...weird it sounds".

_Some hours have passed since Phoebe gave birth, and I'm trying to be a man, a support, and I'm trying to find a way to get out of here. I asked Giovani, ridiculous I know, but he was the leader of all this madness and he had still a little respect for me and let me go. I wanted to bury my son, give him holy sepulchre and show him that afterr all, I love him._

When entering the room, she was lying on the bed, hugging our son and rocking him. I stared at her and our baby. She was tired, haggard, pale and with her eyes red and swollen. She looked weak, small as ever, fragile as always. She was still lying over that blood-stained bed and the shirt that I have gave her, or rather, the one she took from my room one day, was between brown and dark red, tinged with dried blood. It broke my heart, it if was possible that it kept beraking. I can't believe all what have happened in so little time...I can't believe that we lost the proof that our love was true.

_I walked up to her, I was defeated but I couldn't show signs of it. I sat her and tried to hold her while she stretched her legs a bit. Once she sat down, I put a hand on her knee and the other on her ankle, pulling her cramped and numbed right leg to react. I did the same with the other. I took a towel that I was carrying with me and moistened it with hot water to clean her a little. I caressed her skin with it, showing her how much I loved her, being gentle, sweet and delicate, almost for the first time. I wanted to tell her that protecting her was my job and that I always would. Then I took another towel to dry her skin before dressing her up. She observed me, somewhat surprised but grateful. She had our son in her arms yet, and she wouldn't realease him for the world. I dressed her, I made sure that everything was fine with her clothing and that her sweat pants didn't hurt her stomach. The time of leaving the baby and put her shirt on arrived, and although it killed her, she tended him to me._

_"Hold him," she asked._

_Her voice sounded broken, it was the first time that she spoken after asking me "no" before pushing for the last time._

_When I felt my baby on my arms, my eyes filled with tears that I didn't let drop. I held him tighter, I wanted to keep him warm, made him feel safe. I outlined his nose with my finger, it was so small...and her hand, I put it over mine. I recalled the first time I had my little girl on my arms, she was little but not as him, I wanted to hear my son's cries, I wanted to see him stretching his arms to his mother...I wanted to be nervous, to don't know what to do and tend him to her, smiling at see, that at the moment of their embrace, he calmed down._

_But that would never happen. We were forbidden, the three of us._

_"Take," I said with my voice cracking, handing her a sanitary napkin in case of a new bleeding. _

_She took it and when she was ready, she tied her sweaty and wet hair._

_"Help me to stand up"._

_That sounded like an order. She never gave commands, but I knew that she wasn't the same girl that came here months ago. I held her with my free hand and I didn't let her move, even when her feet touched the floor._

_"My dairy. I'll go for it, wait here"._

_"No"._

_If she thought that I'd leave her go in this conditions, groggy, alone in this place, she was crazy. If she wanted her diary we would go together...it was stupid going for a notebook, but for her, it meant something important, otherwise, she would never had mentioned it. I helped her to walk, almost avoiding her to do so and carrying her on my arms._

_When we got to the room she took her diary, saved a paper there and then put the notebook between her shirt and jacket, and we were ready._

_I positioned her before me to hold her, but she wanted to walk. Stubborn. She was holding our son, I was holding her. I led her to a hall and I sat her on the floor, protecting them from the broken glass that were going to fly after breaking the big window that I was going to use to make us escape from here._

_"Wait"._

_I took the fire extinguisher and took advantage of the situation to discharge all the pain I felt in the destruction of the cristal. I left the extinguisher fall, I jumped to hide in a wall to avoid getting hurt: not for me, for her. I needed to be ok if I wanted to take care of her._

_"Are you okay?"_

_I nodded. I cleaned the are of pieces of glass. I made her embrace me from my back and held her from her legs before as she held our baby. I led them to an alley, we crossed some broken bars and finally got to a street. I released her, and asked almost rutinarily, more focused in what to do now, if she was fine._

_"Taxi!," she told me._

_She was terrible. But at least, she had energy, although a bit._

_I sat in the backseat, I received her in my arms and she leaned on my chest. She fell asleep. She seemed an angel, one I didn't deserve. She was so beautiful, more than any woman._

_When arrived to the mortuary, I sat her on a chair before going to the counter. The guy asked me what I wanted, I hesitated: I knew what I needed but I hadn't the nerves to ask for it. I pointed our son that Phoebe protected in her arms, and he understood. He took several minutes, horrible, eternal, short minutes before coming back. He showed me a white coffin, beautiful, unique and perfect. I didn't want to study it more, I didn't dare to say anything and just paid for it before leaving. It was almost squared with a little cross in the top. It gave me peace, painful peace._

_We left the place and Phoebe adressed to the church. It wasn't a place I'd like to go, it had been a while since God and I had no relationship, but he had let Phoebe survive...maybe, and just in case, I wanted to say thanks. I don't know. I took her in my arms, she was suffering a lot walking, and regardless her stubborness, I carried her there. We came in. I let her stand when we got to the priest. I talked to him, nothing important, as she remained in my arms, held for me._

_The man stared at us with deep sadness, but respected our and didn't ask anything that wasn't necessary._

_"What is the name of this son of God?," asked us._

_Phoebe and I looked at eachother, we nad no idea what his name was._

_"It's good that you name him, so the wound will heal one day and you will be able to remember him that way forever"._

_I thought that he was right, except for the wound healing part. It would never heal. Ever. Nor with more children, nor being apart from Phoebe, nor with a million dollars: the wound would never disappear, and although It would be some times that it blaze less, it would always burn. I thought about my father, and how much he meant for me. He had been the most important person in my life, who had raised me and from one day to another, had died. My mother never got over it and although she did all what she could to play but roles, I have always felt that I need him here with me, maybe with him here, I would have never got to this point. Maybe._

_"Benjamin," I replied not thinking it twice, "after my father," I explained to Phoebe, and she nodded not moving, not saying a word, just looking at my eyes with no response from them._

_"Benjamin Turner," she added._

_"Benjamin Marie Turner-Halliwell", I corrected, "Your middle name after you"._

_I knew that Marie wasn't a very good name for a boy, althought in France is used for males and females but since we're not in France, it doesn't sound good but...but I wanted our Ben to represent us. He represented us._

_I held her tighter and with our hands tangled, we made a bed for our child as the priest prayed for him and his soul. Phoebe's face was emotionless, she wasn't crying, she just stared and I didn't express more than her._

_As soon as he finished, we left. We didn't say thank you, but he knew that we were thankful. He didn't say goodbye, he just saw us walking sowly, like denying our destiny. Phoebe was carrying Ben, and both, his coffin._

_We took another taxi, in silence, embraced. We didn't notice and we were already at the cemetery. We talked all the way, with monosyllabes and concluded that the perfect place for the coffin, was the Turner's mausoleum: in the family lasted only two people besides me, and those were my mom and Johanna. There wouldn't be questions, and we weren't taking the risk of leaving this creature on Halliwell's land._

_"I need a gravestone, for yesterday," I said as soon as I found the figure of the keeper of the place that I knew, and he knew me. He nodded taking his hat off in respect of our fallen angel._

_He made no questions._

_"Benjamin Marie Turner-Halliwell. 2010. Martyr. Son. Angel," muttered Phoebe and I didn't know if she really spoke or not, and what told me that she did, was seeing Hank writting it down._

_Both waited without looking, without speaking. Time floated in the air with no sense. The clock hands were not going either to the right or left, just not moving. The only thing we could hear was the sound of stone being carved and with each blow against the marble, pieces dropping to the ground, the pieces of what was left of us falling to the floor._

_"It is time," he told us, indicating the space where the grave of our son would be placed, with him inside._

_And it was time to say goodbye._

_Phoebe looked at me before nodding with her eyes filled of tears. She handed me our son and I turned around to leave with him, it would be our first and last time alone, father and son only._  
_When I started walking around the ground, I began to imagine my little boy was merely asleep. I started to rock him on the road, pretending, even to know that it did nothing but lie to myself, that at that time, Phoebe was resting after giving birth and I meeting my newborn son._

_"Don't leave her alone," I asked, taking his little hand as he could not take mine, "She needs you as much as me ...and I know it's not fair to ask you, our son, to take charge of us, so I won't ask you to stay for me... I ask you not leave her, that always accompany her,because I know I have no right to complain, but she does: she lost you not being able to do anything about it, while I lost you because I didn't take care of you before"._

_My voice began to shiver and could not help but cry. My legs no longer held me: I'm not that strong. I knelt on the floor and contracted my face in pain while I let go all my sorrow into tears that I didn't try to hold._

_"Who am I fooling?," I said hugging him tightly, "Please son, come back...open your eyes, don't keep playing like this...," I begged trying to warm him, trying to, somehow, make him come back with me, "I promise that I will be a good father, I promise that I'll get your sister back, but please, don't go...nothing will be the same without you. I need you, your mother needs you, please, son...open your eyes..."_

_The silence of the place did nothing but confirm that fate was writen with no chance of being deleted and writing again, it was done with blood, with the blood of an innocent who paid for what wasn't his fault. I felt that the pain was too heavy to bearn with it and even though I had my son in my arms for hours, days or years, he would never come back. And for him and for Phoebe, I had to let him go in peace: both needed to move on in their lives, and I shouldn't interfere._

_I got up with very, excessively difficult and kissed his forehead with my lips trembling. I smiled, for the first time in so long time. I returned to the mausoleum, Phoebe was staring on something and I touched her shoulder awakening her from her reverie. I left Benjamin in her arms, it was her turn to say goodbye. I waited for her to leave, but she didn't, she only whispered:_

"Sorry..."

_Her voice resonated in my bones, something in her had broken forever. Forever. She hugged Ben and kissed him before letting her tears fall. She took his hand in hers._

_"I'm sorry," she said this time kissing both of his hands and I gave a step to approach her, but gave up: she needed a moment alone, to say goodbye openly._

_She took his little feet, wich also kissed after her tiny fingers while my hear broke again. She began to walk with him around the mausoleum to wrap herself in my arms. Her attitude didn't surprise me and I fastened the contact. Her delicated arms began to rock him and I followed her as we went to the small coffin a few feet from us._

_"The other nite dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms...," she whispered, and I wanted to ask her to stop because her voice hurt me: but I didn't dare, "When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken...and I hung my head and cried". _

_Her ankles bent, I prevented her from falling and hugged her as our son. I tried not to cry at the sad scene we were starring._

_"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, When skies are grey...", continued moving slowly again, on her way to the crib where Benjamin would sleep forever._

_Her voice trembled, her tones were sharp,choppy, but she didn't stopped. She was full of love and her heart... broken._

_"You'll never know...", said pursing her lips, and I knew that she couldn't take it anymore, "how much I love you...please...", she said looking at the ceiling, waiting for a miracle, "don't take my little sunshine away..."_

_She hid her face in my chest and bit my shirt. I put our son between our hands, as we did in the church, and we put them over the little bed in where our baby would rest: we didn't want to leave him._

_"You'll never know...how much we love you", she added taking her hand off the little white coffin, "My sweet sunshine...mommy and daddy will always love you..."_

_Said that, she stopped crying. I took my hand off and now, he was inside. He was wrapped in a beautiful silk handkerchief that had fiven us the priest, and had traces of our tears in his face. He had his eyes closed, hands curled and bearing of a prince. _

_"I love you," I said for the first time to him, unfortunately, for the last one too._

_I looked at him melancholic, noting that now he would rest with his grandfather, my father, my heroe._

_We went out and moved forward. I wanted to carry her, but she didn't let me. I didn't force her. I saw her fall, screaming hysterically. She was beating herself, pulling her hair. She was desperate, destroyed, dying before my eyes. I took her by her wrist, trying to protect her from herself. She screamed so loud that made me shake up. I rocked her, she could hardly breath. I took her face between my hands and I kissed her on her wet lips._

"Why?," I asked hitting the ground furiously, ready to shout and complain to heaven why things had to go that way...but it didn't worth it, "Why?," I whispered this time, pursing my lips that were salt from all my tears, useless tears. Useless.

I stood there, quiet, remembering some scenes, her voice...I was still able to do it clearly, but I was afraid because I knew that soon, in a future, I wouldn't be. I was afraid, because I didn't want her to turn into a memory, blurry memory.

_We were at the center again, she was a real zombie. She had no emotions, she was pale and cold. Screaming made us run. Everything was flying through the aire. She became to go faster and I noticed why, so I did it too and with all my force until I got to take Giovani's from his shoulders and take him off from Rubi._

_I didn't take care of her because I knew that Phoebe was and my job now was stopping him. In a few, some guys from my room gathered, I thought to save him, but no: they were as tired as everyone here, and helped me to tie his hands and legs. We dragged him inside; I was afraid of leaving Phoebe alone but I knew that with pervert away she would be fine: because she wasn't part of any group, so ther wouldn't be any kind of revenge against her. Unless they wanted to mess with me by taking her, so I tried to hurry up._

_I learned about Rubi's dead, also Gisselle's, and I'm not ready to accept it yet. I ran to their room, I need to know of Phoebe and Helena. When I came in, she had something in her hands and tried to jump from her bed, but I received her in my arms. She tangled her legs around my hips, her fingers on my hair._

_"Are you wounded?," she asked me immediately, almost spitting the question, taking my face in her hands as she caressed my cheeks._

_"No," I replied low, very low, almost whispering. Then, I lay her down on the bed, "How do you feel?"_

_"I'm fine"._

_I knew that she was lying, but I hadn't the chance to tell her nothing because a little groan emitted by Helena called my attention. I released Phoebe and ran to my friend at realizing that she had an empty syringe over the bad, and everything made sense: when we talked, she used to say that if she had to kill herself, she would do it with a syringe full of air. __Hours before, when Ben died, I thought that there was no way for things to get worse, but destiny proved me over and over that it was possible, that there were ways, and that it would just get worse._

_I sat next to Helena, I hugged her with deep love and devotion: she was my little sister, she was leaving, the girl that had been there for me...the one who had did all what she could to help me and Phoebe to hurt us the least, and who I just, would never stop missing._

_"Go with them," I told her giving her some heat; if she had to go, she had to feel loved._

_"She's leaving, right?," asked me Phoebe with a childish voice._

_"Yes"._

_After a while that I spent embracing Helena, she spoke. It was almost a sigh, actually, her last._

_"Than...ks"_

_My face was watered, but I didn't stop stroking her. No one said nothing. I felt that she was stopping breathing, and if I paid more attention, Phoebe was crying too._

_Time passed slow, anguishing, hopelessly painful and unstoppable. I stood, Helena was gone, but Phoebe was still here and I had to take care of her now; there wasn't time for mourning...and later would be the time to cry my heart out. I took her up and sat her on the bottom bed, then, I lay Helena on the top bed. I covered her with a sheet before whispering "I love you"._

_I felt Phoebe's hands caressing my shoulders, her tender lips kissing one of them. I took her hand and led her back to the bed; she shouldn't be standing. I lay her carefully, to the wall's side, so I could lie to the edge and avoid her to move. I made her use my chest as pillow and she wrapped her arms around me._

_I wondered what day it was. It was something that I didn't use to pay attention at, but too busy trying to distract my mind, I started to think. It was two, November 2, Phoebe's birthday. I felt rage, because it was her birthday and my little girl had lost what she loved the most and suffered as never before. I decided that then, at knowing that we had so little time to spend together, doing something to show her that I had always loved her._

_"Happy birthday, Phoebe," I whispered in her ear after checking on my watch, it was the first time that I pronounced her name on her presence._

_I felt her tremble, I know that it was hard to her to believe that I could know something like that, and that I was calling her by her name. I regret haven't pronounced her name each time I had the chance._

_"I would have loved to have made this day a happy one for you," I added honestly, giving her too, that side of me that no one had got to know, telling her that it was hers, "but it's too late, even to give you a little present...the garden plants are all dead, I can't even give you a flower...," I thought sadly, bringing up all the romanticism that I had hidden after my divorce with Beatriz._

_"Do you know what I want from you?", she asked surprising me with her confidence, at that new tone of voice so vivid that she was using. I followed her game._

_"No, tell me"._

_"There are three things," she I explained focused._

_I sat on the bed with curiosity, paying all the world's attention on her, all the attention I hadn't gave her before._

___"The first is the one I want now. The other two, I will say you later"._

_"I'm listening"._

_Phoebe made that face of concentration that always made laugh, and my heart bounced when noticed that I would never see that face again._

_"I have always...I always wanted to know...I want to know how it feels to make love, Cole. The real love. How does it feel when the butterflies in my stomach are reciprocated and...when somebody seriously touches me. I, for once, want to feel one with my partner, not a toy..."_

_My conscience hit me when I heard that. A toy, she was a person, a heart and a soul, and I, for coward, for being afraid of falling in love with her...had treated her as a toy._

_"T__hat every sensation is real, that it comes from depths, without drugs, Cole, with no witnesses...and I want to make it with you..."_

_I pursed my lips, let a sob escape from my mouth, hearing that was almost dying. With me. Phoebe wanted to make love with me, it was the only thing she was asking, it was something that most part of couples considered part of their lives and we had hidden all this time. I nodded, I could't say no because I had been wanting the same for a long time...and now, that all barriers were down, there weren't reasons for not doing it._

_I said nothing, What could I say at that? What she was asking me, was my heart, and I was giving it to her, it didn't matter how much it would hurt when she had to leave with it and I had to stay here, alone._

_But I was taking the risk, only to make her happy._

_I took her soft chin with one of my hands and I kissed her on the lips. It was slow, as ever, shy, scared, but took confidence soon: every move made me feel more and more sad. Because I loved her, I finally admitted it, and I didn't want to lose her, I didn't want hurting her anymore...but it was too late._

_She let herself go and my tongue made its way on her sweet mouth as my hands, shaking as it was my first time, explored her warm body. Her creamy skin hypnotized my senses and made want to go further, taste her, become one with her forever. I began to slide her shirt up, trying to get more. The temperature was increasing in the room and my mouth went to her neck, following the way her neck bones made and then, kissing her lobe. I couldn't help but bit it playfully, what I did again when I heard her l__oud guttural moan from his mouth._

_I felt more active then and started to spread kisses on her shoulders. I heard her gasping when I stopped at to pull up her thighs and made them surround my hips. I made some space between her breast and she leaned her head back, letting me move easier. I wanted to touch more, but her brassier was in the middle of us, so in a quick move, I took it off. I felt her shake below and that made me feel tenderness and devotion. She smelled blood and sweat, her face and neck tasted salty by her tears, but anyway, I had never felt her better than today. Never, until today, I had taken the time to save in my memory all the sensations shared together, and I lamented that I would never be able to do it again. I don't know what made us know what this was our last time together, but we did._

_We always knew._

_I slid my hand trough her back, pulling her closer to my chest and massaging it a bit her tense muscles: after a so long day, there wouldn't be a part of her body aching. Phoebe seemed to wake up after a while and feeling her lips over my torso was the most beautiful thing I've ever experienced. Her fingers her playing with the hair of my chest, making figures, playing and following her childish spirit that had always been there and she had hidden forever._

_Her touch advanced to my chin and I saw her smiling and make a silly face when my stubble made tickles in her face. It was fun, to me too. I pulled her sweat pants slowly, the same ones I had put on her hours ago and I lay her on the mattress. I freaked out. I was deeply nervous, I didn't know if I had to keep going or not, How sore she would be? What if I hurt her? What if something happened because of me? No...no, it wasn't right to do this, I loved her it was true and I wanted to make love with her that was true also but.._

_Her hands took mine, whose were tense and __stiff, and dragged them to her hips, encouraging me to take off her pants. She led my hands, I didn't know how to react and she made me took them off. She jumped a bit and I put my palms on her hips._

_I stopped to look at her._

_Her face was pale, her eyes red and swollen, but her lips had a weak smile, calmed, not as her chest that didn't stop going up and down with no coordination. Her bones were buried in her skin, not as much as before, here belly was still a little swollen, not a lot, only a bit, and her breast were a little bigger than months ago. She was staring at me with expectation, she was here but also, in her own mind._

_I love when she does that, when she fluctuates between here and there, when she let me glimpse what is thinking but she says nothing, not hiding from me that she's reflecting. _

_I leaned to kiss her forehead, because I couldn't resist my desire of kissing her forever._

_For all eternity._

_I kissed her nose, deposited a tender kiss on her lips and then went to her bellybutton. I closed my eyes, impotent: our Ben wasn't there anymore and he would never be, and, I had not even the consolation of having him on the next room sleeping on his crib. I felt rage and impotence, Why he had to go? Why that way? Why him and not me? Phoebe would have been so much happy with him than with me and I...I would have gave my life to save him and protect them from heaven. Heaven? Was I serious? I had no rights to go heaven. I had destroyed my family, lost Johanna, killed my son and...Phoebe._

_I had no right to anything._

_I caressed her belly, showing her how thankful I was. Begging her pardon. I took her hands, she tangled her fingers in mine and I supported my knees on the bed, one each side of her waist. __Phoebe broke our union to unzip my jeans, somewhat desperate at first, but then calmed down and was slow until we both divest of my pants and underpants, and I took off my shirt._

_She looked up and smiled. My arms were shivering, fearful, and my eyes didn't stop releasing rivers. I kissed her lips again, almost crushing her by my weight. I gasped, a mixture of pain and effort of not crushing her completely. __She wiped my tears with a gentle caress and kissed the tip of the nose. I smiled, she was too tender for her own good and that pleased me: I laughed slowly, I wish our relationship had been like this from the beggining._

_I caressed her tired legs making circles with my fingers on them before going to her knees. I felt a chill when I saw her white pale skin stained with dried blood. I spread her legs carefully expecting for a complaint or comment: but she said nothing. I hesitated, but I decided to keep going, I don't know why. No, Iknew why: I wanted because I wanted to give her her present that, at the end, was more mine than hers._

_I steeled myself and brought one of my fingers to her bottom, introducing it slowly. I alerted immediately when I her her moaning loudly, and I couldn't decided if it was pain or pleasure. I was more clam when I saw that she covered her mouth to hide a mischievous smile, but still, I thought that it wasn't a game to be taken that way. I grabbed her face with my other hand, making her look at me, and for the first time, I dared to look at her in the eyes._

_Our eyes met._

_For the first time after we started our relatinoship, I stared at her eyes and I wished having done that more often. They were beautiful, as I recalled them from the first time we have met and I had promised to myself that I wasn't enjoying them never again. Because they were sacred. They were the window of her soul and I, I didn't deserve her soul, I always knew, but I couldn't help it and get it, destroying it in the way. _

_My Phoebe nodded and took my hand in hers. She smiled with confidence and peace, and I believed her. I couldn't doubt anything from those brown eyes. I took a deep breath, frowned and closed my eyes, settling between her legs. And it happened again: when I opened my eyes, she was staring straight. I told her, not saying a word, that I loved her. And I don't know how but she understood and I knew that she felt the same. She dropped a tear and bit her lips, shaking a bit by the emotion: but the visual contact, we never lost it. She looked so happy, but I don't know if she was happier than me, who for the first time, had said those words to a woman filled of meaning: and I hadn't spoken even._

_She snorted when I stopped, about to push myself: she was nervous, I was too. It was our first time, we had never made love before._

_I asked with my eyes if I could move or not, now were them who talked for us, with no fear. She said yes and I went further, promising that I wasn't introducing more than my tip, just in case. The grimace of pain, the wail from the pit of her stomach and the contraction of her face that I had never seen before, only were surpassed for the Ben's episode. Thousand of tears fell from her eyes inmedately, one after another like competing for getting out faster. I wanted to go back, what I had feared had happened but she moaned louder when I tried to get out, shaking her head. She took my hand, she encouraged me. I hated hurting her but the sense of being inside of her, no, with her, was priceless. And I felt like a bastard thinking that way, feeling good while she was suffering but I couldn't fool myself: it was nothing superior, even heaven, nor hell itself, than Phoebe._

_Our eyes connection said it all. Everything. Even what we knew that we couldn't say, even that we had no idea that we could get to feel: everything was trasmited, there were no secret, we were only one person split in two. One soul united for the first time after so many years lost. Her crying made me want to stop, so I did, trying to make her believe that I couldn't go further: but she didn't believe me. She smiled and pushed my hips with her hand. I snorted when she descovered me and ready to cry of impotence, I pushed to her bottom._

_Her change and mine surprised me, although I didn't doubt that having suffered and lost so many loved ones hadn't turned us into brand new people. Now, we were completely together. She leaned her head back and I put my hands on her neck to help her. I didn't want to move, I could see that she wasn't ready and what confirmed it was that she was still as ever._

_I kissed her cheeks and made a way of kisses to her breasts. The softness of her skin, her warmth and her curves decorating her body were an incalculable piece of art. Only being there, with her, made me feel a sinner, Should a simple mortal had acces to that jewel? I don't know, but if loving her was a sin, I was disposed to pay all the pain of hell. _

_I want to move, I want to go beyond, but I owe her respect: I won't move until she tells me that I can, and for now, I spend my time feeling her hand caressing my hair. Each caress is more loving than the one before, each sound more exciting and as the seconds passed, she was getting more active. Every time she arched her back, made me feel more excitement and for a moment I believed that she was enjoying my face of abstention, until she thought it was too cruel leaving me like that and decided that it was time to keep going._

_But I doubted. I didn't want her to say yes if she wasn't ready._

_"Go on," said her raspy voice, mixture of a sigh and a groan._

_That convinced me. I was still afraid of hurting her but I was doing this for her, so I backed away before inserting myself again, always slow: afraid of hurting her._

_Her face was a mixture of several expresions: I could see pleasure, pain, sadness and happiness at each thrust and kiss received from me, and that, was the same that I was feeling; because we were one defined by a short word that we would never thought that would come to be real: love._

_And love was the only guilty of our ripped soul. Because it had given us life, took it away from us and now, had us in hanging by a thread, at that each would fall to a different side._

_Apart._

_Feeling Phoebe was the most pure sensation I had ever experienced in my life. We were almost coming and I couldn't resist saying what I hadn't said in so long time._

_"I love you Phoebe", I moaned almost hitting my chest with hers, looking at her eyes with no intentions of quitting._

_"I love you Cole"._

_That sentence made my whole world forever._

_We remained like that, together, afraid of moving an inch. Breathing was hard, we were scared, What would happen now? I decided that staying like this wasn't good for either of us so I lay on the bed and she cuddled. I wrapped my arms on her waist and I saw her closing her eyes, hidding her face in my sweaty and naked torso. I took my free hand to her legs, caressing her skin, registering perfectly every minimal detail of Phoebe with my palm. And she, she was doing the same but with much more elegance and prolixity than me. She hugged me and we held our hands, letting them rest over her boling belly._

_Her breath was becoming heavier, her body was dropping itself over me as her hand began to move slower._

_"My second wish," she whispered, "I want you to get back your family. For me and for Benjamin, you have to"._

_I petrified at hear her talking like that. She was saying goodbye: it was true, she also knew that we had no return and...as a wish, as her own, she was asking me to be happy. I let out a sob and protected her stronger, rocking her both sides. I didn't want her to go, I didn't want her to ask me for the third wish because that...that would be the first step to an uncertain future, of wich the only thing that was clear, it was that it wouldn't be with us together._

_"The third one...", she said almost babbling, and her hands stopped moving, her head leaned and her eyes closed over my chest before opening them again, "Cole, honey, don't hate me for going after him. Love, please, don't hate me for wanting to rest in peace..."_

_The sound of the clock striking midnight, along with those peaceful and in love brown eyes staring at me and saying goodbye, were the mark of Phoebe's goodbye, who, as let her eyes shut, gave her last breath._

_The stabbing pain, unstoppable tears, anguish made person and a lance buried in my hear there the only things existing for at that time. I hugged her for long time, kissing her hands and face, saying "I love you" with no stop. I didn't stop until my voice disappeared, my throat was very sore, and I didn't stop moving until I felt too weak to continue, and was then, when her death hit me: my princess had gone after our angel, she was not here...not anymore._

"Tonight, I'm coming your third wish true: I accomplished the first one that day, making love to you as I had never done before...feeling in every pore of my body the need of having you with me forever, and the sorrow of knowing that I had to let you go. Today, I'm recovering my family as you asked me, and...I had never hated you, I can't hate you because I would never be able to stop loving you as I did, as I do, as I will.

I wip my face of tears and sigh. I can hear noise, there are people approaching and I know that's time to go if I don't want them to discover me, besides...I told Phoebe all what I had to tell her and I know that she will be here to listen every time I need her company, here and everywhere. I can feel her with me all the time.

I put my hands on the ground and craving to stay, I get up.

"I love you Phoebe, happy birthday," I tell her sending her a kiss.

I save my hands on my pockets before turning and began to walk down the little hill. I see that forward there are three girls and an old woman with flowers, and I know they're her family. I try to pass quickly, I don't want to meet with those live images of the woman that taught me what love was.

"I'm sorry!," says one of them after crashing against me, distracted in her movements.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you," I apologize, and I'm lying.

The girl, that I can recognize as her middle sister, blushes a bit and allows me to pick up the flowers that she had dropped.

"Good bye," I say in an smooth tone not looking at her...she makes me recall her more than what my heart can bear.

I feel that the gazes of the others with her follows me until they can't see me, but I'm not afraid: her family never knew about us...I didn't tell them about Ben neither, I hadn't heart to see them more dead than what they were already that day when they went to pick Phoebe's body at the center. I remember that I managed to clean her, dress her and make up a good scenario of suicide, so they wouldn't need to make an autopsy; otherwise, they'd find out about her pregnancy. Human's mind has an incredible ability to create and imagine, solve problems when it's desperate. I had luck, my plan worked out.

I walk and turn to the right getting into a dirt road that lead to the mausoleum of my family. I get in a little shy, as every time I went here. This place is dismal, unbearable, but that doesn't stop me to come often, I visit this place every time I come to visit Phoebe, Gisselle, Helena and Ruby.

"Happy birthday Ben," I greet him, touching his little grave, clean of dust, "I brought you a present, I hope you like it".

I open the bag on my hands and take an helium balloon and a stuffed animal that I tie close to him.

"Two years! How does time fly so fast, son?," I ask him and my eyes drop some tears at the memory of him in my arms, "I'm from your mom's, but I couldn't give her her present yet because your aunts and great grandmother hadn't visited her yet. You know that I can't let them know that I'm the one who leaves her letters and flowers. I hope you can tell her, for me, whenever you're because I know you're together, that as soon as they leave, I'm giving them to her".

I approached slowly to a little space from where I removed a piece of wood to reach a notebook hidden: it is Phoebe's dairy. She dedicated her time the day before leaving, to complete it with all what had happened. I caress the front with sweetness, open the first page and there's her handwriting: messy, childish, mixture between capitals and lower case letters.

"I cry every time I read this pages, son," I tell him pursing my lips, "but was in that moment when I understood that, as much as her absence killed me and would kill me my whole life, your mother had spent her last days immersed in darkness, the deepest, and that now, away from here and holding your hand, she's free. Son, you set her free from all her sorrow," I told him saving the diary again, unable to read it yet, "And from that moment...she will never be locked in darkness in again".

I close my eyes as the memory of the moment when I found it comes to me, that day...that condemned day, the most cursed in the world's history.

_She's not longer breathing, but her smile made her look like an angel. I kissed her in the lips and hugged her tight: I didn't ask her to stay, I couldn't do that to her. But it hurt, it ripped my soul to know that I would never be able to see her. She was gone, she had went after our son, to protect him._

_Later, the warmth or her body became to disappear and its rigidity to torment me: I had to act. I got up, with no more tears to shed and made my best to leave my beautiful doll in the best conditions. I recalled that she had something in her hands when I came, so I began to search it until I found the notebook she was always writing in: her diary, my Phoebe's diary._

_I took it as it was an invaluable treasure, unique, as it would disappear in my fingers. I sat next to her and held her hand as opened the first page, finding a note:_

_"Cole, love of my life:_

_I started to write this diary some time before arriving here, at home. I have some of these there, and I always start a new one when the pages don't last, but none is as important as this one: this, tells all what I have lived here, with you and the others, and I want you to have it. It's up to you what to do after reading it; you can burn it, throw it to the trash, keep it if you believe that is the best. This is yours, is the only thing I can leave you of me, besides, here, at the last page, are the footprints of our son, the proofs of his existence._

_I ask you, please don't forget, to give my family a note...I wrote it, it's at the end of the diary. It's a letter of suicide, that way, they won't find out about us and you'll be safe. They will be too at knowing that nobody hurt me, but myself. That I died in peace, that it was my decision, that no one was behind it._

_I want you to know, although I know you know it and as you go through this pages you'll confirm it, that you're the man who taught me what truly love was, and the one I allowed to do it, because I felt one with you from the first moment. I will never forgive you, and no matter what, I will accomplish my promise as I know you'll accomplish yours._

_Don't cry for me my love, think about me with joy, otherwise I will never be happy. I want you to enjoy all what you've missed these years, I want you to enjoy this life to its maximums so when the time comes, we could meet and start again. Don't push yourself, just...get back to your home and learn how to love Beatriz, as we loved each other, love her. You deserve somebody to loves you as much as I love you, and although that I hate the idea, my only desire is that you get to find someone who gives you all what I can't._

_Thank you for being there, thank you for protecting me, thank you for loving me, thank you for, simply, existing and being the only valuable part of my story._

_Don't forget about me Cole, nor about me nor about Ben, we are waiting for you to continue our journey together. I love you with all my heart, I always did._

_Sincerily, (Freebie, to all of the others), Phoebe, to the only one who saw me behind"._

* * *

**Ok creatures, I know this have been reallllyyyy long but there's still more. Yes, I know, boring! but well, there's the second sequel awaiting for us, so if you want to find it you've to click on my user acc and go to my story "There is light out there" or copy this and paste it on your browser after "fanfiction", don't forget to take off the parenthesis ****(.net/s/6676020/1/Theres_light_out_there)**.

**Let me explain: if you want to understand the "new sequel" you'll have to forget what happened in this, because it's another version of the same, like in a new dimension or astral plane. "Locked in darkness" and "There is light out there" are both sequels of "Sincerily, Freebie" so the "new sequel" starts from the last chapter of "Sincerily, Freebie" and lets this fic out.**

**I hope it wasn't as messy and hard to understand as I wrote it lol see you!**

_Review(s) response(s) _:

**Piper'stemper: **Ok. You have lifted my selfsteem to sky and beyond! I was concerned about their personalities because I didn't want them to be out of character...I believe that they were/are at some points but well...that's part of every fic I guess. Thank you for all your kind words and support, I really appreciate them! :D

**ButterflyEyes24: **Oh...poor Cole =( I don't know what I was thinking when I decided to write such a sad condemned story =( I'm glad you're back, don't leave again please!

**Pholefan:** How am I supposed to reply to that? lol, I know, aww :'(


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